UBRARf 

OF  THE 

NIVER 
OF 


^ 


A  VOICE 

FROM  THE  PIOUS  DEAD  OF  THE 

MEDICAL    PROFESSION; 

OR,  MEMOIRS  OF  EMINENT  PHYSICIANS 
WHO  HAVE  FALLEN  ASLEEP  IN  JESUS: 


WITH  A  PRELIMINARY'DISSERTATION  ON 


THE  CROSS,  AS  THE  KEY  TO  ALL  KNOWLEDGE. 


HENRY   J.    BROWN,    A.M.,    M.D. 


'O  X<5yoj  yap  o  TOV  aravpoiy  rotg  '/t£v  dno\\vfi£ioif  fiwpia  caYi,  roTf 
i/jiiv  dvvapts  Qeov  tort." 


PHILADELPHIA: 
HIGGINS    &    PERKINPINE, 

No.  40  NORTH  FOURTH  STREET. 

1855. 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  1855, 
BY    HIGGINS    &    PERKINPINE, 

In  the  Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court  for  the  Eastern  District  of 
Pennsylvania. 


E.  B.  HEARS,  6TEREOTTPER. 


SMITH  &  PKTERS,  PRINTERS. 


3% 


TO  THE 

MEDICAL     PROFESSION, 

THIS  VOLUME 

IS  RESPECTFULLY  DEDICATED, 
BY 

A  PROFESSIONAL  BROTHER. 


PKEFACE. 


following  pages,  it  is  believed,  will  abund- 
-*-  antly  refute  a  charge  of  incompatibility  be- 
tween the  Christian  Keligion  and  Science,  some- 
times made  by  wicked  and  ignorant  persons.  The 
testimony  of  enlightened  experience  is  always 
reliable ;  but  that  of  a  given  number  of  individ- 
uals peculiarly  capable  of  its  highest  power,  ac- 
quires uncommon  force,  if,  whilst  furnishing  a 
brighter  light,  it  also  corroborates  the  religious 
experience  of  a  whole  race.  It  is  more  potent 
than  mere  argument,  and  throws  an  impediment 
in  the  way  of  infidelity  which  gives  it  far  more 
trouble  than  all  others  combined.  Of  this  char- 
acter is  the  testimony  furnished  in  this  volume. 

Among  the  following  memoirs  will  be  found 
the  names  of  some  of  the  brightest  intellectual 

1*  (5) 


VI  PREFACE. 

and  scientific  lights  of  any  time  and  country. 
That  of  Mr.  Hey  will  arrest  attention  as  among 
the  most  distinguished  of  the  English  surgeons 
of  his  day.  No  name  is  more  widely  or  favour- 
ably known  to  the  medical  profession,  and,  indeed, 
to  the  world  of  general  science,  than  that  of  Dr. 
John  Mason  Good.  Dr.  Hope's  work  on  the  heart 
is  in  the  library  of  almost  every  physician.  The 
name  of  Dr.  Bateman  is  also  familiar  to  us.  Of 
Dr.  Godman  nothing  need  be  said  to  his  own 
countrymen.  All  of  these  acquired  an  imperish- 
able reputation,  everywhere  known  and  acknow- 
ledged ;  and,  they  therefore  represent  a  class  of 
the  subjects  of  Christian  truth  possessing  a  pre- 
eminent claim  upon  the  attention  of  men  of  sci- 
ence, and  especially  on  that  of  medical  men.  Not 
one  of  them  can  be  objected  to  as  wanting  in 
talent,  education,  or  opportunity  for  thorough  ex- 
amination of  the  claims  of  Christianity  upon  hu- 
man belief;  nearly  all  of  them  were  sceptics; 
every  one  of  them  exacting  of  the  truth  to  the 
very  utmost  of  the  pride  and  power  of  human 
reason  ;  and  all  of  them  agree,  and  rejoice,  in  the 
triumphs  of  experimental  truth  ! 


PREFACE.  Vll 

Dr.  Gordon  is  not  so  generally  known  to  Amer- 
ican physicians,  but  his  memoir  presents  no  com- 
mon character,  and  the  most  rigid  judgment  will 
assign  him  no  inferior  position  in  the  profession 
or  in  general  science.  His  testimony  is  radiant 
with  a  glory  which  shines  forth  with  an  unusual 
brightness  amid  the  breaking  clouds  of  death. 
It  is  furnished  as  an  instance  of  that  complete 
triumph  which  the  word  of  God  declares  the 
Christian's  faith  will  accomplish  over  the  terrors 
of  the  last  hour.  The  case  of  Dr.  Broughton 
belongs  more  especially  to  those  of  our  brethren 
who  are  enlisted  in  the  naval  service ;  whilst  that 
of  Dr.  Capadose  must  possess  peculiar  interest  for 
those  of  them  who  claim  to  be  the  natural  de- 
scendants of  Abraham. 

To  medical  men  of  every  class  these  Memoirs 
come  with  singular  force,  involving,  as  they  do, 
the  modes  of  thought,  the  associations,  and  the 
difficulties  common  to  the  medical  profession. 
Their  testimony  is  as  the  united  voice  of  breth- 
ren of  the  same  toils,  proclaiming  a  heavenly  rest 
to  the  weary  pilgrim.  It  comes,  too,  unembar- 
rassed with  any  considerations  of  interest,  or 
mere  purpose  of  sect  #r  calling. 


Vlll  PllEFACE. 

The  memoirs  of  Mr.  Hey,  Drs.  Good,  Hope 
and  Bateman  appear,  with  some  alterations,  con- 
sisting in  some  instances  of  abridgments,  and 
in  others  of  additions,  as  found  in  "  Sketches 
of  Eminent  Medical  Men,"  a  publication  of  the 
London  Eeligious  Tract  Society.  "  A  Narrative 
of  the  closing  scenes  of  the  Life  of  the  late  Wil- 
liam Gordon,  M.  D.  &c.,  by  Newman  Hall,  B.  A.," 
has  furnished  the  materials  for  this  most  inter- 
esting memoir.  The  former  portion  of  it  has  been 
re-written,  but  the  latter,  and  larger,  is  generally 
a  literal  transcript  of  the  text  of  the  Narrative, 
with  such  omissions  as  the  want  of  space  com- 
pelled. The  desired  point  was,  to  present  the 
daily  experience  of  the  dying  Christian  in  his  own 
words,  and  this  has  been  done  with  less  regard  to 
mere  literary  style  than  is  maintained  in  the 
Narrative.  That  of  Dr.  John  D.  Godman  is  from 
a  sketch  by  the  late  Thomas  Sew  all,  M.  D.,  Pro- 
fessor of  Anatomy  in  Columbia  College,  Wash- 
ington, D.  C.  Dr.  Brough ton's  memoir  is  from  a 
publication  by  the  American  Tract  Society.  The 
account  of  the  conversion  of  Dr.  Capadose  was 
written  by  himself,  at  the  request  of  eminent 


PREFACE.  IX 

persons  at  Neufchatel,  Switzerland.  It  appears 
nearly  as  abridged  from  the  French  of  the  socie- 
ties of  the  Friends  of  Israel  at  Toulouse  and 
Neufchatel. 

The  Preliminary  Dissertation  does  not  claim 
to  be  an  argument  so  much  as  an  incentive  to  in- 
quiry suggestive  of  a  form.  The  views  which  it 
presents  are  such  as  have  grown  out  of  the  read- 
ing and  reflections  of  the  author  amid  the  active 
duties  of  the  practitioner  of  medicine,  and  are 
believed  to  be  taught  in  the  WORD  OF  GOD. 

No  other  professional  man  has  so  little  com- 
mand of  his  time  as  the  physician.  His  seasons 
of  leisure  are  not  always  free  from  anxiety  and 
fatigue.  The  mind,  at  such  times,  will  not  always 
be  disposed  to  encounter  a  lengthy  article  on  any 
subject :  this  is  especially  true  of  irreligious  men 
with  religious  books.  The  arrangement  of  this 
volume  is  designed  to  meet  a  want  growing  out 
of  this  peculiarity  of  the  profession.  The  Dissert- 
ation is  presented  in  short  chapters,  any  one  of 
which  is  complete  in  itself,  and  yet  not  so  discon- 
nected from  the  others  as  wholly  to  destroy  con- 
secutiveness.  The  Memoirs  will  accord  with  the 


X  PREFACE. 

Dissertation  in  this  respect,  so  that  the  reader 
may  pass  at  once  from  brief  argument  to  ex- 
perimental demonstration — the  highest  order  ol 
proof.  In  some  good  moment  a  professional 
brother  may  be  induced  to  read  a  single  chapter 
or  memoir,  and  thus  be  led  to  further  investiga- 
tion of  the  most  important  of  all  subjects.  The 
eye  of  the  youthful  student  who  has  never  yet 
properly  thought  of  God,  may,  in  this  way,  be 
brought  to  see  the  surpassing  beauties  of  the 
Cross.  This  is  the  main  purpose  of  the  author — 
to  arrest  the  attention  of  the  medical  man  who 
has  not  yet  found  Christ  as  a  Saviour ; — to  direct 
him  to  that  Great  Being  in  whom  all  glories  of 
science  and  of  grace  meet !  If  God  so  please  that 
others  shall  be  benefited  thereby,  to  Him  be  all 

thanks  and  glory. 

H.  J.  B. 

PHILADELPHIA,  1855. 


CONTENTS 


DISSERTATION. 
CHAPTER  I. — The  Cross  in  the  Life-Union         .         .         .       Page  13 

CHAPTER  II.— The  Cross  in  Nature 21 

CHAPTER  III. — The  Cross  in  Medicine       .....       31 


MEMOIRS. 

WILLIAM  HEY,  ESQ. 41 

DR.  GOOD 69 

DR.  HOPE 93 

DR.  BATEMAN 123 

DR.  GODMAN .        .  147 

DR.  GORDON .        .        .  183 

DR.  BROUGHTON 259 

DR.  CAPADOSE                                 .       .  289 


Cross  in  %  f  ife-litbit. 


(13) 


"Blotting  out  the  handwriting  of  ordinances  that  was  against  us, 
which  was  contrary  to  us,  and  took  it  out  of  the  way,  nailing  it  to  his 
cross." — COLOSS.  ii.  14. 

"  Jesus  said  unto  her,  I  am  the  resurrection,  and  the  life ;  he  that 
believeth  in  me,  though  he  were  dead,  yet  shall  he  live  :  And  whoso- 
ever liveth,  and  believeth  in  me,  shall  never  die." — JOHN,  xi.  25,  26. 


(14) 


A  DISSERTATION 


ON  THE 


CROSS  OF  CHRIST 
AS  THE  KEY  TO  ALL  KNOWLEDGE. 


CHAPTER  I. 

THE   CROSS   IN   THE   LIFE-UNION. 

T)RIMEVAL  man  came  from  the  hand  of  the  Creator  a 
J-  perfect  creature.  Of  his  intellect  we  can  have  no  ade- 
quate conception  ;  of  his  body  no  proper  understanding. 
He  was  immortal,  so  created  or  so  kept  by  means  of  divine 
appointment.  The  earth  was  like  him — perfect ;  adapted 
to  his  high  estate ;  but  of  its  real  nature  we  can  know 
as  little  as  of  man  himself.  The  great  design  of  the 
Creator  seems  to  have  been,  a  race  of  happy  beings  with 
an  abode  replete  with  every  condition  suited  to  their 
exalted  nature. 

The  intercourse  with  the  Creator  was  direct ;  man 
communed  at  once  with  the  Infinite  God! — no  third 

(15) 


16  THE   CROSS   IN   THE   LIFE-UNION. 

party  intervened !  The  mind  of  Adam  revelled  in  the 
constantly  unfolding  glories  of  creation  and  the  Creator. 
They  did  not  suddenly  burst  upon  the  astonished  gaze 
of  a  mere  feeble  mortal,  but,  with  the  perfection  and 
power  of  divinely  enrapturing  disclosure,  they  opened 
to  the  comprehension  of  mind  in  its  primeval  strength ! 

The  tempter  came  and  man  sinned !  Behold  him 
now ! — The  intellect  which  in  primeval  vigour,  with  a 
rapidity  greater  than  present  intuition,  comprehended 
the  language  and  thoughts  of  God,  now  droops  with 
infirmity,  and  has  become  the  inmate  of  a  dying  body  ! 
The  heart  which  bounded  with  love  to  the  Creator,  has 
now  become  "  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately 
wicked." 

Man  stands  at  the  bar  of  God  a  convict,  under  sen- 
tence of  death  ;  the  violated  law  of  the  Creator  demands 
the  execution  of  the  penalty.  Who  shall  save  the  crea- 
ture from  this  death?  —  JESUS  CHRIST!  What  shall 
bring  him  into  favour  with  the  Creator  again?  —  the 
CROSS  ! 

It  would  serve  no  present  purpose  to  inquire  whether 
human  intellect  has  suffered  in  its  nature  or  essence,  by 
the  Fall.  It  may  be  safely  affirmed,  that  whatever 
remains  of  mind  is  subject  to  the  same  laws,  and  operates 
in  the  same  way  as  in  the  primeval  state,  in  so  far  as 
may  be  compatible  with  a  total  change  in  moral  consti- 
tution. The  Creator  is  no  longer  directly  accessible  to 


THE   CROSS   IN   THE   LIFE-UXIOX.  17 

man,  nor  is  it  in  the  power  of  mere  human  reason  to  find 
him  out.  But  then  shall  mind  not  enter  into  the  new 
method — shall  the  way  of  the  Cross  be  without  reason  ? 
Never  !  Just  as  little  as  mind  and  reason  could  stand 
apart  from  the  act  of  transgression,  just  so  little  can 
they  be  excluded  from  the  act  of  obedience  to  .Christ. 
The  religion  of  the  Cross  does  not  only  allow  but 
demands  the  highest  order  of  reason ;  but  the  character 
of  the  reasoner  and  the  subjects  upon  which  he  reasons, 
are  changed. 

If  then  it  be  true  that  the  Cross  is  the  only  means  by 
which  man  may  be  restored  to  the  favour  of  God,  it 
becomes  a  matter  in  importance  far  outweighing  every 
other  claiming  his  attention,  to  understand  the  nature  of 
this  gracious  instrumentality.  But  what  shall  reason  say 
of  the  Cross  ?  A  man  is  suspended  on  Calvary,  between 
the  heavens  and  the  earth,  a  spectacle  of  mysterious 
humiliation  ;  and  dies  on  a  cross  between  two  malefac- 
tors !  What  of  that  ?  How  shall  that  bring  the  creature 
into  favour  with  the  Creator  ?  But  this  was  the  Son  of 
God  !  True ;  but  this  does  but  perplex  reason  the  more  : 
The  Son  of  God  to  die  ! — to  die  a  malefactor's  death  ! — 
to  die  for  man  !  Who  can  reconcile  that  with  reason  ? 
Adam's  brightest  primeval  morn  must  have  left  this 
problem  veiled  in  darkness.  Angels  cannot  understand 
it,  much  as  they  desire  !  The  tall  sons  of  light,  as  they 
"shouted  for  joy*'  when  Qod  spake  a  world  into  being, 

2* 


18  THE   CROSS   IN   THE   LIFE-UNION. 

may  have  understood  it  all ;  but  the  incarnation  and 
death  by  the  Cross  challenges  their  closest  scrutiny ! 
"  — Without  controversy,  great  is  the  mystery  of  godli- 
ness ;  God  manifest  in  the  flesh."  1  Tim.  iii.  16. 

The  Cross  addresses  itself  especially  to  the  moral 
constitution  of  man,  but  his  moral  constitution  is  dead. 
The  mind  is  still  present,  but  it  has  in  itself  no  adequate 
power  of  comprehension,  for  it  is  under  the  dominion  of 
moral  death.  Not  a  death  in  the  sense  of  mere  disability, 
as  if  some  latent  power  still  remained,  but  an  absolute, 
total  death  of  moral  constitution.  A  new  power  is  there- 
fore necessary  to  restore  to  life  —  that  of  the  Holy 
Spirit ! 

The  gift  of  this  new  power  by  the  Holy  Spirit  is  of 
God,  and  free ;  the  order  of  its  bestowment  is  through 
faith :  Behold  the  cross,  and  hear  Jesus  declare,  "  He 
that  believeth  on  me  hath  everlasting  life."  There  is  a 
suppliant  who  beats  his  breast  with  anguish,  but  his  eye 
is  raised  to  the  cross,  and,  discerning  the  all  prevailing 
efficacy  of  the  sacrifice  hanging  thereon,  he  finds  peace 
with  God !  How  does  he  discern  the  nature  of  that 
sacrifice  ?  Verily,  reason  hath  not  revealed  this,  but  the 
Holy  Spirit  to  the  eye  of  faith  ! 

The  life-union  is  established  by  the  direct  operation 
of  the  Holy  Spirit  on  the  heart  of  the  believer.  The 
manner  of  this  union  is  inexplicable  to  mere  reason,  for 
it  is  a  matter  of  faith  and  experience.  It  is  the  point 


THE   CROSS   IN   THE  LIFE-UNION.  19 

at  which  the  mind  ceases  to  act  according  to  its  ordinary 
laws,  in  so  far  as  human  beings  understand  them,  and 
relies  implicitly,  savingly,  upon  the  Word  of  God.  It 
is  God's  new  creation.  The  knowledge  of  the  existence 
of  this  work  is  perfect ;  but  it  comes  through  the  heart. 
More  than  eighteen  hundred  years  ago,  reason  asked 
"How  can  these  things  be?"  and  the  only  reply  still  is, 
"  The  wind  bloweth  where  it  listeth,  and  thou  hearest 
the  sound  thereof,  but  canst  not  tell  whence  it  cometh 
and  whither  it  goeth ;  so  is  every  one  that  is  born  of  the 
Spirit." 

The  believing  soul  has  now  become  a  new  creature — 
alive  in  Christ,  and  justified  before  God — redeemed  by  the 
Son,  and  adopted  by  the  Father.  A  new  life  begins, 
with  new  joy,  and  superior  delights — the  beginning  of 
an  immortality  more  glorious  than  primeval  blessedness 
confirmed !  In  the  primeval  or  immediate  state,  the 
pleasures  of  intellect  may  have  predominated,  but  in 
this  new  creation,  or  mediate  life  through  the  Cross,  rea- 
son and  the  affections  have  a  higher  bond  of  union  ;  the 
former  may  have  been  one  pre-eminently  of  reason — of 
the  mind ;  the  latter  is  one  pre-eminently  of  grace — of 
the  heart.  Adam  knew  and  loved  the  Creator ;  man 
may  now  know  and  love  the  Father  as  revealed  by  the 
Son !  God  has  suspended  the  mode  of  immediate  inter- 
course by  reason,  and  has  ordained  the  mediate  revela- 
tion by  the  Cross. 


Cross  in 


(21) 


"For  by  him  were  all  things  created,  that  are  in  heaven,  and  that 
are  in  earth,  visible  and  invisible,  whether  they  be  thrones,  or  domi- 
nions, or  principalities,  or  powers :  all  things  were  created  by  him, 
and  for  him :  And  he  is  before  all  things,  and  by  him  all  things  con- 
sist."— COLOS.  i.  16,  17. 

"Wherefore  God  hath  highly  exalted  him,  and  given  him  a  name 
which  is  above  every  name  :  That  at  the  name  of  Jesus  every  knee 
should  bow,  of  things  in  heaven,  and  things  in  earth,  and  things  under 
the  earth  ;  And  that  every  tongue  should  confess  that  Jesus  Christ  is 
Lord,  to  the  glory  of  God  the  Father." — PHILIP,  ii.  9,  10,  11. 


(22) 


CHAPTER  II. 

THE    CEOSS    IN   NATUBB. 

MAN  is  not  in  the  position  in  which  he  came  from  the 
hands  of  the  Creator,  nor  is  he  in  that  in  which  sin 
placed  him ;  his  position  is  in  the  order  of  restoration, 
placed  there  by  the  Cross ;  under  grace,  magnified  to  them 
only,  however,  who  believe.  Human  life  is  simply  a 
reprieve,  during  which  the  Cross  manifests  its  power. 
The  being  who  controls  that  life  is  he  who  erected  the 
Cross.  Its  history  is  that  of  Christ's  great  plan  of 
redemption.  All  present  knowledge,  whether  in  nature 
or  science,  is  of  grace,  and  pertains  to  this  plan. 
The  truths  in  nature  cannot  be  separated  from  those  of 
redemption,  nor  is  it  possible  to  understand  the  former 
without  the  aid  of  the  latter.  There  is  not  an  element, 
law,  or  fact,  in  all  the  wide  range  of  physical  nature  that 
does  not  belong  to  the  same  plan.  The  earth  was 
adapted  to  man's  primeval  condition  of  holiness  and 
perfection,  and  was  therefore  not  suited  to  him  after  he 
had  fallen;  the  ban  of  destruction  was  necessarily 
placed  upon  it  too ; — God  cursed  the  earth.  All  physi- 

(23) 


24  THE   CROSS   IN   NATURE. 

cal  nature  is  therefore  only  a  part  of  man's  fallen  estate. 
The  discovery  of  a  new  fact  is  not  an  advance  in  the 
knowledge  of  creation,  according  to  the  original  plan  of 
development ;  it  is  simply  an  advance  in  the  knowledge 
of  fallen  physical  nature.  There  is  not  a  fact  or  law  in 
nature  that  understandingly  exhibits  to  mere  reason  the 
intelligence  and  power  of  the  Creator ;  for  the  facts  and 
laws  of  nature  are  just  as  much  a  perversion  of  God's 
power  and  wisdom  as  sin  is  of  his  purity ;  and  we  might 
with  equal  prospect  of  success,  endeavour  to  find  out  and 
understand  the  attributes  of  Deity  involving  directly 
our  moral  constitution  by  the  power  of  mere  reason,  as 
by  it  to  understand  his  unclouded  intelligence  !  This  is 
not  due  to  a  want  of  intelligence  in  these  facts  and  laws, 
but  because  they  form  part  of  a  great  plan  of  mercy 
above  the  comprehension  of  reason,  although  not  con- 
trary to  it;  a  plan  which  places  all  dominion  and 
power  in  the  hands  of  Jesus  Christ. 

The  government  of  the  world  is  not  now  that  of  the 
Creator,  as  in  Eden,  but  of  the  God-man — the  Redeemer ! 
Whatever  properly  belongs  to  the  nature  of  the  Creator  is 
essentially  permanent — eternal,  and  does  not  tend  to  de- 
struction ;  just  as  his  Holiness  is  essentially  eternal  and 
does  not  tend  to  Sin  ;  but  all  that  relates  to  physical  nature 
must  be  temporary,  and  finally  destroyed.  This  earth  con- 
tinues in  being  by  virtue  of  the  same  reprieve  extended  to 
the  body  of  man,  but  it  is  under  the  ban  of  death,  and  all 


THE   CROSS   IN  NATURE.  25 

laws  and  conditions  under  which  it  exists  must  work  out 
that  result !  God  hath  spoken  it:  "  But  the  heavens  and 
the  earth,  which  are  now,  by  the  same  word  are  kept  in 
store,  reserved  unto  fire  against  the  day  of  judgment 
and  perdition  of  ungodly  men — in  the  which  the  heavens 
shall  pass  away  with  a  great  noise,  and  the  elements 
shall  melt  with  fervent  heat,  the  earth  also  and  the 
works  that  are  therein  shall  be  burned  up."  2  Peter, 
iii.  7-10. 

But  the  omnipotent  power  of  the  God-man  will  re- 
deem even  this  earth  from  all  dominion  of  sin  and  death, 
and  make  it  bright  and  glorious,  suited  to  man's  glori- 
fied immortality,  possibly,  nay  probably  again  to  become 
his  residence.  It  shall  descend  into  a  grave  of  fire — to 
rise  again  ;  for  "  we,  according  to  his  promise,  look  for 
new  heavens  and  a  new  earth,  wherein  dwelleth  right- 
eousness." 2  Peter,  iii.  13. 

Throughout  all  nature  there  is  a  moral  aspect  which 
finds  an  explanation  only  in  the  Cross,  and  human  reason 
in  vain  attempts  to  understand  it.  If  it  departs  from  the 
Cross,  and  ventures'  to  rely  upon  its  own  resources,  after 
wandering  through  a  world  of  curious  and  laboured  specu- 
lation, without  a  ray  of  true  light,  it  becomes  lost  in  the 
question  of  the  final  cause ;  and,  if  it  be  true  to  itself, 
it  will  interpret  the  character  of  that  final  cause,  by 
that  of  its  effects :  these  effects  constitute  the  phe- 
,  nomena  of  nature.  Now,  considered  in  relation  to  hu- 
3  • 


26  THE   CROSS   IN   NATURE. 

man  happiness  alone,  are  the  phenomena  of  nature  in 
harmony  with  the  character  of  a  being  of  infinite  wis- 
dom, power,  and  goodness  ?  What  is  the  influence  of 
malaria  on  human  health  ?  Do  the  vicissitudes  in  wea- 
ther, incident  to  all  climates  and  seasons,  contribute  to 
the  personal  comfort  and  happiness  of  mankind  ?  Why 
should  any  malign  influence  exist,  or  why  should  any 
one  of  the  numerous  causes  of  human  misery  exist? 
What  is  the  influence  of  death  upon  human  happiness 
considered  apart  from  the  future  existence  which  the 
Cross  secures  ?  But  aside  from  all  physical  evil,  there 
is  a  world  of  moral  suffering ;  what  shall  be  said  of  that  ? 
How  does  the  moral  evil  of  human  existence  agree  with 
human  happiness  ?  It  is  clear  that  if  the  happiness  of 
man  be  the  purpose  of  his  being,  there  is  a  signal  fail- 
ure in  its  execution,  and  that  due  to  the  impotency  or 
malignity  of  the  final  cause  !  Reason,  in  very  confusion, 
cries  out,  "  THERE  is  NO  GOD  !" 

The  objection  that  if  the  laws  of  nature  are  carefully 
studied  and  obeyed,  man  may  be  happy,  is  without  the 
slightest  foundation  in  mere  reason,  to  say  nothing  of 
fact ;  but  if  it  were  otherwise  with  reason,  it  is  refuted 
by  the  experience  of  universally  suffering  humanity. 
Human  reason  has  accomplished  all  it  can  accomplish, 
but  has  not  yet  succeeded  in  securing  even  comparative 
happiness ;  for  the  very  best  estate  of  man  is  one  of 
suffering.  But  if  even  reason  could  modify  this  con- 


THE   CROSS  IN   NATURE.  27 

dition,  it  would  accomplish  nothing  unless  it  could  pro- 
cure absolutely  perfect  happiness,  both  moral  and  phy- 
sical ;  for  less  than  this  would  only  impair  the  character 
of  its  author.  Reason  cannot  avoid  a  judgment  of 
the  character  of  the  cause  by  that  of  its  effects ;  for  the 
efficiency  of  the  cause  must  always  explain  the  nature 
of  the  cause  itself;  and  on  the  admitted  imperfection 
of  this  state  of  existence,  the  imperfection  of  the  final 
cause  inevitably  follows. 

But  if  it  be  objected  that  human  existence  is  not  the 
highest  state  of  happiness  which  the  final  cause  can  con- 
fer upon  a  race,  a  worse  result  follows,  which  impugns 
its  goodness.  If  human  happiness  is  not  as  great  as  it 
might  have  been  made,  then  it  is  so  from  mere  choice  in 
its  source.  Human  reason  must  have  an  impotent  or 
malign  deity,  or  one  combining  both  qualities ;  its  history 
records  this  very  necessity,  as  seen  in  the  numerous  the- 
ories, both  heathen  and  enlightened,  to  account  for  the 
origin  of  good  and  evil.  Ages  might  fitly  be  regarded 
as  one  continuous  effort  at  the  elaboration  of  reason's 
deity,  but  alas  !  the  true  God  is  yet  afar  off ! 

Now,  the  only  means  of  reconciling  these  contradictory 
phenomena  in  nature  with  an  infinitely  pure,  wise,  and 
powerful  being,  is  by  the  Cross ; — that  man  is  a  fallen 
being — that  physical  nature  has  fallen  with  him ;  and 
that  human  existence  is  a  plan,  or  part  of  a  plan,  under 
the  absolute  control  of  Deity,  for  the  higher  development 


28  THE   CROSS   IN   NATURE. 

of  the  divine  attributes,  and  the  consequent  greater  ulti- 
mate happiness  of  the  creature  :  not  a  means  to  increase 
the  primeval  power  of  mind,  so  much  as  to  enlarge  and 
beatify  the  primeval  heart ! 

We  have  hitherto  spoken  of  reason  alone — as  it  was 
left  by  the  Fall,  before  it  became  the  subject  of  grace. 
Whatever  the  nature  of  the  primeval  love  may  have 
been,  of  the  creature  for  the  Creator,  it  ceased  to  exist 
when  man  sinned  and  fell ;  so  that  whatever  feeling  of 
admiration,  reverence,  or  love,  unregenerate  man  may 
now  have  for  God,  is  due  to  an  influence  which  belongs 
to  the  mediate  revelation  of  mercy  by  the  Cross.  It  is 
an  influence  which  belongs  to  that  measure  of  gracious 
light  enjoyed  by  all  men  in  order  to  produce  such  a 
regulation  of  human  society  as  to  render  it  tolerable  for 
God's  people,  and  adapt  it  to  their  state  of  trial.  The 
wicked  must  be  restrained,  or  the  followers  of  the  Cross 
could  not  exist ;  and  hence  in  Christian  countries  there 
prevails  a  reflected  light  or  restraining  power  of  Christ- 
ianity, whilst  in  the  heathen  world,  the  same  or  an  equi- 
valent power  operates,  modified  so  as  to  be  suited  to  that 
state  of  society.  It  may  be  called  the  moral  sense  of 
mankind,  which  directs  the  thoughts  up  toward  a  supreme 
power.  But  human  reason  is  sure  to  confound  this  light 
with  its  own  native  powers,  and  seizing  upon  certain 
phases  of  natural  and  scientific  phenomena,  it  would  run 
directly  up  to  a  being  of  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and 


THE   CROSS   IN   NATURE.  29 

goodness,  as  the  6rod  of  reason ;  when,  in  point  of  fact, 
it  is  not  reason's  god  at  all,  but  the  Grod  of  grace; — not 
found,  but  inadequately  conceived  of ! 

But  even  the  conceptions  of  God  which  common  grace 
prompts  in  human  reason,  are  such  as  to  render  the  phe- 
nomena of  nature  and  science  unworthy  of  him,  if  sepa- 
rated from  the  Cross.  Reason,  conscious  of  this,  is  driven 
into  the  necessity  of  reconciling  these  phenomena  with 
the  character  of  a  perfect  being ;  and  this  must  result  in 
constructing  a  being  to  suit  them.  Here,  then,  is  a  most 
fruitful  source  of  those  "  profane  and  vain  babblings  and 
oppositions  of  science  falsely  so  called ;  which  some  pro- 
fessing, have  erred  concerning  the  faith."  1  Tim. 
vi.  20. 

Great  men,  even  professing  Christians,  sometimes 
strangely  misapprehend  the  true  province  of  human  rea- 
son, in  attempting  to  "reason  from  nature  up  to  nature's 
God,"  without  including  the  Cross !  They  do  find  a 
being  of  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and  goodness ;  but  the 
deity  whom  they  thus  find  is  a  mere  mental  or  scientific 
abstraction !  The  Infinite  God  can  only  be  known  as 
He  is  pleased  to  reveal  himself  through  the  Cross.  Jesus 
Christ  is  the  great  centre  and  sum  of  all  knowledge, 
power,  and  worship.  He  exists  as  the  Almighty  God 
everywhere  in  nature,  but  is  nowhere  discernible  but  as 
seen  through  the  Perfect  Man  who  died  on  the  cross ! 

3* 


30  THE    CROSS   IN    NATURE. 

All  reasoning,  therefore,  which  excludes  this  gracious 
key  to  Divine  knowledge,  finds  a  mere  God  of  the  fancy. 

There  can  be  no  natural  theology  only  as  it  stands 
related  to  Christology.  The  truth  is,  there  is  no  such 
thing  as  mere  natural  theology ;  it  is  a  misnomer ;  it 
should  always  be  Christology.  There  is  no  discord  be- 
tween the  God  of  nature  and  of  revelation  ;  there  can  be 
none,  for  they  are  the  same — Jesus  Christ !  Nature  is 
but  a  confirmation,  nay,  an  irrefragable  demonstration 
of  the  truth  of  revelation ;  and,  therefore,  all  schemes 
of  theology  and  philosophy,  which*  reject  or  pervert  the 
latter,  end  in  PRACTICAL  ATHEISM. 

Deism  is  a  solecism  in  human  reason.  It  antagonizes 
cause  and  effect,  is  lost  in  the  attempt  to  explain,  and 
then  staggers  and  gropes  its  way  to  a  conclusion  which 
leaves  a  deity  so  laden  with  crime  and  impotency,  as  that 
reason  itself  refuses  to  worship  !  Truth  to  say,  reason 
will  have  no  god,  and,  therefore,  it  finds  none  :  it  yields 
obedience  to  no  god,  for  it  would  be  a  god  itself !  In 
Paradise  it  disputed  the  claim  of  the  Eternal  to  the  pre- 
rogative of  Deity ;  and  God  cast  it  forth  into  a  world  of 
sin,  in  which  it  is  permitted  to  strut,  assuming  a  thousand 
forms  of  vanity  and  specious  delusion ; — but  godless 
still !  The  very  zenith  of  its  light  is  shrouded  with  the 
gloom  of  starless  midnight,  and  to  it  there  remains  no 
day,  until  the  glorious  "  Sun  of  Righteousness  arise  with 
healing  in  his  wings  !" 


Cross  in 


(31) 


"  Howbeit,  when  he,  the  Spirit  of  truth,  is  come,  he  will  guide  you 
into  all  truth :  for  he  shall  not  speak  of  himself;  but  whatsoever  he 
shall  hear,  that  shall  he  speak :  and  he  shall  show  you  things  to  come. 
He  shall  glorify  me :  for  he  shall  receive  of  mine,  and  shall  show  it 
unto  you.  All  things  that  the  Father  hath  are  mine  :  therefore  said 
I,  that  he  shall  take  of  mine,  and  shall  show  it  unto  you." — JOHN, 
xvi.  13,  14,  15. 


(32) 


CHAPTER  III. 

THE    CROSS   IN   MEDICINE. 

EASON  discerns  in  the  human  skull  an  admirable 
arrangement  for  defending  the  delicate  organ  con- 
tained within.  It  delights  in  contemplating  the  perfect 
adaptation  of  the  principle  of  the  arch  to  a  purpose  at  once 
so  intelligent  and  wise,  and  exclaims,  "  This  is  the  pro- 
duction of  a  being  of  infinite  wisdom,  power,  and 
goodness  !"  But  hold  ! — Professional  duty  brings  the 
surgeon  to  the  bedside  of  a  patient  who  has  fractured 
that  same  skull,  and  irreparable  injury  has  been  done  to 
the  brain  !  And  now  reason  is  confounded :  The  arch, 
admirably  as  was  its  power  applied,  was  not  strong 
enough ;  it  did  well  until  opposed  by  superior  force ;  it 
accomplished  the  manifest  design  of  its  framer  up  to  a 
certain  point,  and  then  utterly  failed ;  it  was  perfect 
only  within  certain  limits  !  Whence  this  imperfection  ? 
Is  not  God  perfect  in  power  and  wisdom  ? 

The  eye  is  an  astonishing  organ  of  intelligent  design, 
not  only  as  it  regards  the  function  which  it  is  to  per- 
form, but  also  with  respect  to  the  arrangement  for  the 

(33) 


34  THE   CROSS   IN   MEDICINE. 

defence  of  its  most  delicate  structure.  It  would  seem 
indeed  to  be  complete ;  and  yet  the  little  gnat  tha,t  plays 
in  the  soft  breath  of  a  calm  summer's  eve,  will  mock  it 
all !  An  atom  gives  rise  to  disease  that  shuts  out 
the  fairest  scenes  of  nature,  and  utterly  confounds  the 
wisdom  and  benevolence  which  purposed  to  make  the 
organ  of  sight  the  medium  of  vast  enjoyment !  Whence 
arises  this  conflict  between  the  purpose  of  Deity  and  its 
accomplishment  ? 

A  small  punctured  wound  is  inflicted  upon  the  tip 
of  the  finger.  Nature  immediately  makes  an  effort  to 
repair  the  injury.  She  sends  an  additional  supply  of 
blood  to  the  wound,  and  the  finger  becomes  red,  gently 
heated,  with  some  pain  and  swelling — lymph  is  poured 
into  the  injured  part,  and  the  damage  is  speedily  re- 
paired. Admirably  done  !  A  wise  and  benevolent  pro- 
vision of  nature,  —  a  cure  worthy  of  a  being  of  infinite 
intelligence  and  goodness !  Just  enough  blood  is  added 
to  furnish  the  requisite  amount  of  lymph — the  pain  quite 
tolerable,  and  the  swelling  not  excessive :  the  process  is 
perfect ! 

But  it  is  not  always  so.  The  same  kind  of  wound 
may  occur  again,  in  the  same  place,  in  the  same  indivi- 
dual, and  nature  begins  the  same  work  of  reparation, 
but  utterly  fails  !  Look  at  that  little  punctured  wound 
again — a  pin  may  have  been  the  instrument,  a  needle, 
or  a  minute  splint; — the  blood  flows  gently  to  it,  the 


THE   CROSS   IN   MEDICINE.  35 

parts  redden  and  begin  to  swell,  and  are  moderately 
painful ;  all  good  and  healthy  symptoms :  but  observe, — 
the  redness  and  swelling  become  more  extended — the 
whole  finger  is  implicated,  and  still  nature  labours 
to  restore :  the  hand  is  now  involved,  and  finally  the 
whole  arm !  The  finger  mortifies ;  the  hand  and  arm 
follow ;  nay,  lifll  itself  is  the  demand  of  that  little  punc- 
ture which  at  first  scarcely  arrested  the  attention  of  the 
sufferer  !  Now  what  does  reason  say  to  all  this  ?  Nature 
did  well  at  first,  but  with  how  little  success  did  she.  con- 
tinue her  labour  ?  .  It  was  a  most  benevolent  purpose  to 
heal  the  wound,  and  nature  began  to  execute  it  wisely, 
but  with  what  sad  disaster  did  she  overwhelm  the 
sufferer !  ,.  Upon  that  very  arm  a  helpless  family  may 
have  depended  for  support ! 

What  is  true  in  this  instance  is  true  of  all  nature's 
healing  powers.  They  are  wisely  directed  and  benevo- 
lently ordained,  but  are  effectual  only  within  certain 
limits ;  beyond  these  limits  they  utterly  fail ;  and  that 
failure  is  absolutely  inexplicable  to  mere  human  reason. 
All  attempts  to  trace  the  cause  of  failure  serve  but  to 
confuse  and  bewilder. 

The  science  of  medicine  is  subject  to  all  the  weight 
of  difficulty  attending  the  general  question  of  mere  rea- 
son in  nature.  If  we  regard  the  facts  and  phenomena 
of  medical  science  as  those  of  mere  developments  in  cre- 
ation, without  regard  to  the  scheme  of  Love  and  Redemp- 


36  THE   CROSS  JN   MEDICINE. 

tion  by  Jesus  Christ,  we  shall  search  in  vain  for  a  deity 
consistent  with  these  facts  and  phenomena.  The  Cross 
stands  between  mere  reason  and  them  as  the  only  ade- 
quate exponent  of  what  is  worse  than  mystery — a  stu- 
pendous system  of  contradictions,  without  any  satisfactory 
ground  for  rational  conjecture !  It  is  true,  it  may  not 
fully  explain,  so  as  to  bring  within  th^  ready  compre- 
hension of  even  savingly  enlightened  reason,  all  the  con- 
tradictions which  mere  reason,  or  reason  under  the  light 
of  common  grace,  finds,  but  it  will  blessedly  harmonize 
them  with  the  character  of  a  perfect  Deity — perfect  in 
wisdom,  power,  and  goodness,  nay,  love  ! — mysterious  in 
its  very  strength,  but  satisfying  and  blissful,  even  in  its 
mystery,  to  the  believing  soul ! 

Christ  is  the  God  of  science,  and  (if  distinctions  may 
be  drawn)  pre-eminently  of  medical  science,  for  it  is  one 
of  peculiar  mercy  to  suffering  humanity.  Although  be- 
longing to  the  great  scheme  of  mercy,  it  stands  out  in 
prominent  identification  with  the  new  dispensation  of  the 
Cross.  The  healing  art  belongs  only  to  the  Cross.  It 
formed  no  part  of  primeval  knowledge,  just  as  mercy  was 
no  condition  of  the  first  creation.  Mercy  is  made  mani- 
fest in  the  new  revelation  by  Jesus  Christ — the  God- 
man — and  mercy  and  medicine  go  together  in  the  great 
mission  of  redeeming  love  to  sinful  and  dying  humanity  ! 

But  human  reason  rejects  this  scheme  of  mercy,  and 
means  of  divine  knowledge,  closing  its  eye  to  the  great 


THE   CROSS  IN   MEDICINE.  37 

truth  everywhere  presenting  itself,  that  man  is  not  now 
in  his  proper  or  natural  state  of  existence.  It  does  not 
understand  that  this  scheme  converts  this  mode  of  human 
existence  into  a  system  of  means,  having  a  new  spiritual 
power  operating  on  and  in  the  heart ;  and  that  these 
means  are  so  connected  with  moral  and  religious  life,  as 
to  place  them  in  the  light  of  cause  and  effect  in  working 
out  the  eternal  felicity  of  man,  as  the  "born  again"  and 
finally  redeemed  creature ;  nor  docs  it  discern  that  other 
vital  truth — that  the  value  of  man's  rational  and  immor- 
tal soul  is  so  great  as  that  all  physical  nature  is  placed 
under  a  law  contributing  to  its  final  and  permanent  resto- 
ration to  the  full  image  of  its  divine  original !  It  fails 
to  distinguish  between  man's  present  state,  as  one  of 
trial  in  the  line  of  restoration,  and  the  primeval  state. 
Overlooking  entirely  his  great  defection  from  the 
original  estate,  with  its  terrible  moral  and  physical  con- 
sequences, it  most  blindly  takes  the  phenomena  as  found 
in  the  order  of  restoration,  and  treats  them  as  though 
they  belonged  to  the  order  of  primeval  development. 
In  this  view  of  medical  science,  reason  must  for  ever  re- 
main confounded. 

Nothing  can  bring  human  reason  into  the  proper 
order  of  investigation  but  the  Cross.  Divine  revelation 
can  alone  furnish  the  explanatory  facts,  and  only  the 
Holy  Spirit,  in  His  gracious  influence,  can  render  a 
knowledge  of  these  facts  efficient.  Simple  theory  here 


38  THE   CROSS   IN   MEDICINE. 

is  worse  than  simple  theory  in  the  discharge  of  profes- 
sional duty  at  the  bedside.  In  the  Word  of  God  there 
is  a  spiritual  life  "which  must  find  a  lodgment  in  the 
heart,  and  then  reason  finds  an  answer  to  it  in  all  the 
varied  and  seemingly  interminable  ramifications  of  medi- 
cal facts  and  phenomena.  Only  then  does  the  science 
rise  to  its  proper  dignity ; — then  it  opens  before  admiring 
reason,  replete  with  beauty,  consistency,  and  wisdom, 
and  assumes  its  proper»place  in  the  great  plan  of  human 
redemption  by  the  Cross  ! 

It  has  already  been  admitted  that  all  things  are  not 
brought  within  the  full  comprehension  of  reason,  even 
when  fully  enlightened  by  grace,  for  there  are  some 
truths  necessarily  above  it.  This  very  fact  gives  strength 
to  the  claim  of  the  Cross  upon  human  confidence.  What 
would  man  say  of  that  God  whose  plans  he  could 
thoroughly  understand?  If  the  Infinite  God  of  the 
Christian  permit  but  a  single  ray  of  light  to  come  from 
his  ineffable  glory,  human  intellect,  in  the  very  perfec- 
tion of  its  power,  can  only  look  at  it  through  a  veil ! 

If  the  finite  cannot  comprehend  the  infinite,  and, 
therefore,  the  Christian  physician  cannot  fully  under- 
stand his  God,  even  in  the  truths  of  his  own  profession, 
mere  reason  should  be  the  last  to  object.  It  need  but 
look  at  the  acknowledged  mystery  which  it  everywhere 
meets  in  the  scientific  and  natural  world.  The  truth  is, 
reason  proceeds  upon  this  very  ground,  differing  in  this 


THE   CROSS   IN   MEDICINE.  39 

— that  the  highest  probability  of  natural  truth  is  sub- 
stituted for  truth  itself,  and  is  received  as  the  understood 
part  of  a  great  whole  which  is  above  comprehension: 
Who  has  explained  the  nature  of  attraction  and  repul- 
sion ? — and  jet  reason  can  see  no  other  way  in  which  the 
physical  world  could  be  maintained  in  its  present  form 
of  existence.  Disturb  that  duly  adjusted  antagonism 
of  forces  on  which  that  existence  depends,  and  all  phy- 
sical nature  goes  into  confusion.  Here  a  fact  is  sup- 
posed to  be  perfectly  within  reach  of  reason — the  world 
exists  by  virtue  of  certain  forces ;  the  manner  of  the 
fact  is  regarded  as  equally  plain — by  a  proper  adjust- 
ment of  opposite  forces ;  but  what  does  reason  know,  or 
even  claim  to  know,  of  the  propriety  of  that  adjustment, 
or  «f  the  real  nature  of  the  forces  ?  Now  does  reason 
reject  that  which  is  comprehended  because  of  that  which 
is  involved  in  impenetrable  mystery  ?  A  theory  is  em- 
braced as  a  whole,  because  one  part  of  it  seems  to  be 
consistent  with  the  light  which  patient  investigation  and 
the  best  aids  of  science  have  thus  far  shed  upon  it,  whilst 
the  other  side  is  left  in  confessedly  total  darkness ! 

The  mysteries  of  the  Cross  occupy  far  higher  ground 
than  those  of  nature.  That  which  it  leaves  unexplained 
has  a  widely  different  claim  upon  the  Christian's  faith, 
for  it  is  always  joined  with  some  positive  declaration  of 
the  word  of  God,  the  truth  of  which  has  been  confirmed 
by  the  experience  of  His  children ;  so  that  the  uniform 


40  THE   CROSS   IN   MEDICINE. 

testimony  of  the  Christian  world  sustains  it :  The  resur- 
rection of  the  body  stands  directly  in  the  face  of  natural 
laws ;  but  God  has  declared  that  it  shall  take,  place,  and 
the  true  believer  is  made  to  feel  the  resurrection  power 
in  his  own  heart !  Herein  is  the  great  test  of  the  truth 
of  the  Gospel  scheme.  The  plan  of  redemption  by  the 
Cross  comes  to  man  as  God's  great  proposition,  and 
challenges  to  the  test; — if  the  power  which  it  claims 
to  exert  over  the  heart,  and  over  human  suffering,  be  not 
realized  in  the  present  experience  of  the  seeker  accord- 
ing to  its  conditions,  then  it  has  failed.  This  is  the  very 
pivot  upon  which  the  whole  claim  of  the  Cross  is  made 
to  turn.  God  has  put  His  own  truth  upon  the  very 
highest  ground  of  possible  demonstration — that  of  per- 
sonal experience  !  To  this  purpose  are  all  the  promised 
revelations  of  the  Holy  Spirit.  Jesus  himself  hath  said, 
"  If  any  man  will  do  his  will,  he  shall  know  of  the  doc- 
trine, whether  it  be  of  God." 

The  mysteries  of  Divine  truth,  necessarily  above  hu- 
man comprehension,  are  so  modified  by  what  is  known, 
already  proved  in  Christian  experience,  that  the  difficulty 
does  not  consist  in  receiving,  but  in  REJECTING  them ! 
On  its  own  principles,  therefore,  upon  premises  which 
nowhere  in  science  or  nature  equally  obtain,  human 
reason  is  bound  to  raise  no  objection;  nay,  more,  is 
bound  in  all  consistency  with  the  exalted  pretensions 
which  it  makes  to  supremacy,  to  entertain,  examine,  and 
prove  this  Divine  proposition. 


4* 


(41) 


"  The  influence  of  the  mind  on  the  structure  of  the  frame  is  very 
remarkable,  and  serves  to  show  the  principle  that  God  has  given  to 
us  for  purposes  so  very  different  from  those  ordinarily  required  by  the 
NATURAL  MAN  ;  for  who  can  help  being  struck  with  the  power  and 
grace  of  God,  and  that  Divine  influence  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  when  he  con- 
templates the  lives  of  those  martyrs  who  were  led  to  the  burning 
stake  ?  No  change  was  observed  in  them,  in  regard  to  the  external 
man,  whilst  the  power  of  spiritual  holiness  gave  them  strength  and 
grace  to  die  unflinchingly  in  the  cause  of  their  God  and  Redeemer. 
SUCH  IS  THE  DIFFERENCE  OF  LIVING  IN  THE  FLESH,  AND  DYING  IN  THE 
LORD! 

"I  do  not  know  what  my  medical  friends  think  of  me  ;  but  they 
need  not  fear  to  tell  me  their  opinion.  I  have  not  left  it  to  this  hour 
to  make  my  peace  with  God." — SIR  WILLIAM  KNIQHTON,  Bart.,  M.  D. 
Physician  to  Geo.  IV.  - 


(42) 


MEMOIR  OF 
WILLIAM   HEY,  Esq.,  F.  R.  S., 

MEMBER  OP  THE  ROYAL  COLLEGE  OF  SURGEONS  IN  LONDON  ;  HON. 
MEM.  OP  ROYAL  COLLEGE  OF  SURGEONS  IN  IRELAND  ;  OF  THE  ROYAL 
MEDICAL  SOCIETY  OF  EDINBURGH;  OF  THE  LITERARY  AND  PHILO- 
SOPHICAL SOCIETY  OF  MANCHESTER  ;  AND  SENIOR  SURGEON  OF  THE 
LEEDS  INFIRMARY. 

MR.  HEY  was  born  at  the  village  of  Pudsey,  near 
Leeds,  on  the  23d  of  August,  1736.  At  the  age 
of  four  years,  he  received  an  irreparable  injury.  As  he 
was  cutting  a  piece  of  string,  the  edge  of  the  penknife 
being  directed  upward  towards  his  face,  on  dividing  the 
string,  the  point  of  the  knife  entered  his  right  eye,  and 
totally  destroyed  its  power  of  vision.  His  father  was 
much  affected  by  the  simplicity  of  his  reply  to  a  ques- 
tion respecting  the  sight  of  the  injured  eye.  "He  saw 
light,"  he  said,  "  with  one  eye  and  darkness  with  the 
other."  The  sight  of  the  left  eye  was,  however,  remark- 
ably good  even  to  a  very  late  period  of  life — so  much 
so,  that  he  was  always  able  to  read  small  print  without 

(43) 


44  MEMOIR   OF 

the  aid  of  glasses.  We  may  readily  imagine  that  he 
speedily  gave  indications  of  that  singular  vivacity  arid 
mental  vigour  which  added  a  charm  even  to  his  declin- 
ing years.  Into  every  branch  of  science  he  made  early 
inquiries,  and  some  lectures  which  he  heard  at  school  on 
natural  philosophy,  are  said  to  have  riveted  his  atten- 
tion in  a  particular  manner.  After  the  usual  routine  of 
a  school  education,  he  was  placed,  at  the  age  of  four- 
teen, as  an  apprentice  with  Mr.  Dawson,  a  surgeon  and 
apothecary,  at  Leeds. 

The  parents  of  Mr.  Hey  had  carefully  trained  him, 
from  his  earliest  years,  in  hahits  of  strict  attention  to 
moral  principle,  and  a  regard  to  the  outward  duties  of 
religion.  From  the  commencement  of  his  apprentice- 
ship, he  never  omitted  prayer  on  rising  in  the  morning 
and  retiring  at  night.  .  This  exposed  him  to  the  scoffs 
and  ridicule  of  his  fellow-apprentice,  who  would  intro- 
duce the  servant  boy  into  the  bedroom  to  join  in  his 
mockery  of  this  religious  service  ;  but  he  was  not  to  be 
thus  intimidated,  and  his  firmness  and  perseverance  in- 
duced them  at  length  to  desist.  As  yet,  however,  he 
had  acquired  no  correct  notions  of  the  leading  doctrines 
of  the  Bible,  for  in  conversation  with  a  young  friend, 
who  was  pressing  on  his  attention  the  necessity  of  dis- 
claiming all  merit  and  relying  solely  on  the  mercy  and 
grace  of  the  Redeemer  for  salvation,  he  exclaimed,  with 
some  surprise,  "  What !  are  we  not  to  do  our  duty  ?" — 


WILLIAM  HEY,   ESQ.  45 

so  little  perception  had  he  then  of  that  inward  change 
of  mind,  which  the  blessed  doctrine'  of  justification  by 
faith  only  in  the  righteousness  and  atonement  of  the 
Lord  Jesus  invariably  produces,  if  it  be  but  simply  and 
sincerely  embraced  : — "  With  the  heart  man  believeth 
unto  righteousness."  But  this  doubtful  mental  twilight 
was  about  to  yield  to  the  dawn  of  a  brighter  day: 
"  Then  shall  we  know,  if  we  follow  on  to  know  the 
Lord."  He  was  at  this  period  in  the  habit  also  of  retir- 
ing at  convenient  seasons  to  study  the  holy  Scriptures ; 
and  on  one  of  those  occasions,  while  reading  the  5th 
chapter  of  the  2d  Epistle  to  the  Corinthians,  his  atten- 
tion was  forcibly  arrested  by  the  17th  verse,  "  If  any 
man  be  in  Christ,  he  is  a  new  creature :  old  things  are 
passed  away ;  behold,  all  things  are  become  new."  In 
reflecting  on  these  words,  a  series  of  considerations 
arose  in  his  mind,  in  the  course  of  which,  doubtless 
under  the  teaching  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  he  was  led  to 
a  right  knowledge  of  himself  as  a  sinner — of  the  only 
way  of  salvation — of  the  necessity  of  an  entire  renewal 
of  the  inward  man.  Scenes  of  worldly  gayety  and 
amusement  began  forthwith  to  lose  their  accustomed 
attraction.  His  thoughts  were  now  chiefly  occupied, 
and  his  affections  engaged,  by  invisible  and  eternal 
realities.  At  first,  as  he  once  remarked  in  conversation 
with  an  intimate  friend,  his  mind  was  not  so  deeply  im- 
pressed by  a  sense  of  the  great  evil  of  sin,  as  attracted 


46  MEMOIK   OP 

by  an  apprehension  of  the  beauty  and  excellence  of 
holiness.  What  chiefly  affected  him  was  the  love  of  God 
manifested  in  the  redemption  of  a  sinful  world  by  Jesus 
Christ,  and  the  Divine  wisdom  displayed  in  the  dispen- 
sations of  providence  and  grace.  Certain  it  is,  that,  at 
this  time,  he  entered  upon  a  course  from  which  nothing 
afterwards  ever  induced  him  to  turn  aside.  He  became 
the  willing  and  consistent  and  unflinching  disciple  of 
Divine  truth,  daily  growing  in  grace  and  in  the  know- 
ledge of  his  Lord  and  Saviour.  His  religious  views  and 
habits  did  not  escape  the  notice  of  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Daw- 
son,  who  considered  him  unnecessarily  precise,  and  sus- 
pected that  the  tenets  he  had  adopted  were  not  a  little 
tinctured  with  enthusiasm.  On  one  occasion,  Mrs.  D. 
undertook  to  expostulate  with  him  on  the  subject  of  his 
religious  sentiments.  The  reply  he  made  was  calm  and 
conciliating.  He  frankly  avowed  his  views  of  the  nature 
of  true  religion,  and  on  this,  as  on  many  following  occa- 
sions, referred  to  the  Articles  and  Liturgy  of  the  Church 
of  England,  as  sufficient  evidence  that  the  principles  he 
maintained  were  exactly  those  for  which  the  reformers 
contended  as  the  pure  doctrines  of  the  sacred  writings. 
These  conversations  convinced  Mrs.  D.  that  his  senti- 
ments were  not  without  foundation.  He  read  to  her 
several  religious  works,  no  book  engaging  more  of  their 
attention  than  the  "Rise  and  Progress  of  Religion,"  by 
Dr.  Doddridge ;  and  Mrs.  D.  became  finally,  not  only 


WILLIAM   HEY,  'ESQ.  47 

a  convert  to  his  opinions,  but  an  imitator  of  his  piety, 
and  continued  his  steady  and  affectionate  friend  to  the 
end  of  life. 

In  the  autumn  of  175T,  Mr.  Hey  went  to  London 
to  complete  his  professional  education,  and  became  the 
pupil  of  Broomfield  and  Dr.  Donald  Monro,  of  St. 
George's  Hospital.  Attached  to  his  studies,  actuated  by 
an  ardent  thirst  for  knowledge,  and  steadily  determined 
to  become  master  of  every  subject  to  which  he  applied, 
it  was,  at  the  same  time,  a  matter  of  conscience  with 
him,  to  acquire  a  thorough  acquaintance  with  the  pro- 
fession he  was  to  exercise.  "  I  would  spare  no  pains  to 
qualify  myself  for  that  state  of  life  to  which  the  provi- 
dence of  God  has  called  me,  and  then  trust  him  with  the 
success  of  my  endeavours :" — Such  was  the  maxim  by 
which  he  was  actuated.  His  first  winter  was  devoted  to 
anatomy,  and  seldom  did  he  employ  less  than  twelve 
hours  daily  in  the  lecture  and  dissecting-rooms.  But 
this  unwearied  application  qualified  him  for  deriving 
many  superior  advantages  from  his  subsequent  attend- 
ance on  hospital  practice.  His  youthful  companions  in 
study  would  treat  his  seriousness  with  mockery,  and 
sneer  at  the  correctness  of  his  conduct ;  yet  they  were 
constrained  to  allow  the  soundness  of  his  understanding, 
and  his  superior  attainments  in  professional  knowledge. 
They  frequently  applied  to  him  in  matters  of  difficulty, 
and  ever  found  him  as  cheerfully  ready  as  he  was  able, 


48  MEMOIR   OP 

to  assist  them  in  their  inquiries,  and  to  aid  and  encou- 
rage them  in  their  several  pursuits. 

It  is  said  to  have  been  during  the  period  of  his 
studies  in  London,  that  Mr.  Hey  undertook  the  very 
difficult  task  of  systematically  governing  his  thoughts, 
and  laid  the  foundation  of  a  valuable  habit,  which  re- 
mained with  him  to  the  end  of  life.  He  determined  that 
he  would  meditate  on  a  given  subject,  while  he  was  walk- 
ing to  a  certain  distance,  and  that  then  he  would  turn 
his  attention  to  some  other  topic;  and  he  was  thus  ac- 
customed to  pass  through  the  streets  of  London,  investi- 
gating the  various  subjects  to  which  his  thoughts  had 
been  directed  by  the  lectures  or  other  professional  occu- 
pations. He  found  this  acquirement  of  the  greatest 
use,  not  only  in  preserving  him  from  a  swarm  of  vain 
thoughts,  but  in  enabling  him  to  form  a  correct  judg- 
ment on  many  points  of  Divine  and  human  knowledge. 
The  same  kind  of  accuracy  was  observed  in  his  conver- 
sation. He  would  often  discuss  a  subject  with  a  friend 
as  they  rode  in  his  carriage.  In  the  midst  of  the  con- 
versation, Mr.  Hey  would  alight  to  see  a  patient ;  and, 
although  this  circumstance  occurred  frequently,  he  never 
failed  to  resume  the  subject  at  the  very  sentence  where 
it  had  been  broken  off,  and  so  continued  the  argument. 
While  yet  a  student,  Mr.  Hey  likewise  accustomed  him- 
self to  the  observance  of  certain  rules  for  the  distribu- 
tion of  his  several  employments  and  the  improvement  of 


WILLIAM  HEY,   ESQ.  49 

his  time.  He  rose  early,  and  so  arranged  his  occupa- 
tions that  a  particular  portion  of  the  day  was  appropri- 
ated to  each.  On  the  Sunday,  he  never  went  to  the 
dissecting-room,  nor  would  he  accept  any  invitation  to 
visit,  that  he  might  experience  no  interruption  in  the 
"holy  duties"  and  "holy  pleasures"  of  that  "sacred 
rest."  He  has  been  often  heard  to  say,  that  hi?  sab- 
baths were  the  happiest  of  his  days  during  his  residence 
in  London,  and  that  the  complete  suspension  of  all  secu- 
lar pursuits  prepared  him  to  resume  his  studies  with 
renewed  ardour  and  activity.  On  leaving  London  he 
reflected,  with  emotions  of  gratitude,  on  the  goodness  of 
God.  His  health  had  suffered  no  interruption  by  con- 
stant and  intense  application  to  study.  His  religious 
principles  had  not  been  impaired ;  and  he  had  been  pre- 
served from  falling  by  the  various  temptations  to  which 
his  situation  had  exposed  him.  Hence  he  was  induced 
to  express  himself  in  the  words  of  the  Psalmist,  "  He 
hath  showed  me  his  marvellous  kindness  in  a  strong 
city."  Psa.  xxxi.  21. 

Shortly  after  Mr.  Hey's  return  from  London,  he 
entered  upon  practice  as  a  surgeon  and  apothecary  at 
Leeds  and  was  united  in  marriage,  on  the  30th  of  July, 
1761,  to  Miss  Alice  Banks ;  'a  connexion  which  was  the 
source  of  a  large  amount  of  domestic  happiness.  From 
the  time  he  first  entered  upon  the  duties  of  his  profes- 
sion, he  treated  the  most  serious  accidents;  and,  con- 
5 


50  MEMOIR    OF 

trary  to  the  custom  of  the  medical  practitioners  of  Leeds 
at  that  time,  performed  all  surgical  operations  that  were 
necessary,  never  declining  any  cases  which  presented 
themselves  on  account  of  their  difficulty  or  danger.  Yet 
he  was  no  stranger  to  the  usual  struggles  of  early  pro- 
fessional life ;  his  progress  was  very  slow ;  his  range  of 
practice  narrowly  circumscribed ;  and  nearly  ten  years 
elapsed  before  the  regular  emoluments  of  it  were  equal 
to  the  expenses  of  his  family.  Very  little  was  he  then 
disposed  to  anticipate  the  reputation  which  he  after- 
wards acquired,  and  the  long  and  successful  career  that 
awaited  him.  No  public  institution  for  the  relief  of  the 
sick  existed  at  that  time  at  Leeds.  In  the  year  1767, 
an  imfirmary  was  established,  in  the  formation  of  which 
Mr.  Hey  took  an  active  part,  and  of  which  he  was  im- 
mediately appointed  one  of  the  medical  officers,  and,  in 
a  few  years,  became  the  senior  surgeon.  This  estab- 
lishment opened  a  wide  field  for  the  exercise  of  his  pro- 
fessional talent. 

The  intellectual  powers  of  Mr.  Hey  were  of  a  high 
order.  He  was  capable  of  profound  investigation  ;  was 
acute  in  discerning  the  differences  of  things ;  patient  and 
diligent  in  his  researches ;  possessing  an  ardent  thirst 
for  knowledge,  combined  with  a  sincere  and  sacred  love 
of  truth.  Whatever  object  of  study  he  deliberately  took 
up,  he  pursued  with  resolute  assiduity,  until  he  had 
thoroughly  made  it  his  own,  and  had  attained  clear,  com- 


WILLIAM   HEY,    ESQ.  51 

prehensive,  and  correct  notions  of  it,  in  all  its  parts  and 
relations. 

As  an  operator  he  was  firm,  steady  and  collected ; 
circumspect  and  deliberate  in  forming  his  determination, 
and  not  easily  disconcerted  by  any  unexpected  occurrence 
that  might  present  itself.  Few  provincial  surgeons  have 
been  called  to  perform  a  greater  number  of  the  most 
important  chirurgical  operations,  and  perhaps  none  has 
been  more  successful ;  yet  the  greatness  of  his  reputation 
and  his  acknowledged  skill  never  seduced  him  into  rash 
and  hasty  decisions,  into  presumptuous  confidence,  or 
criminal  negligence :  he  was  thoughtful,  considerate, 
humane,  and  attentive,  to  the  latest  period  of  his  life. 
He  possessed,  in  fact,  all  the  qualifications  necessary  to 
constitute  a  good  surgeon.  He  invariably  retired  to  a 
room  to  offer  prayer  to  the  Divine  Being,  previous  to  his 
performing  any  operation ;  and  he  attributed  his  success 
in  the  use  of  the  knife  to  this  circumstance. 

Many  records  of  the  professional  labours  of  Mr.  Hey 
have  been  left  behind.  His  surgical  writings  evince  a 
strong,  comprehensive,  and  enlightened  view  of  those 
subjects  which  he  undertook  to  illustrate,  and  will  be 
read  by  the  Faculty  as  long  as  true  knowledge  of  their 
profession  is  desired.  His  "  SURGICAL  OBSERVATIONS" 
is  still  a  standard  work. 

Mr.  Hey's  memory  is  not  without  some  written  testi- 
mony for  religious  truth.  In  reply  to  Dr.  Priestly,  who 


52  MEMOIR   OF 

was  distinguished  as  a  man  of  science,  but  in  religion 
was  a  Socinian,  he  wrote  "  A  DEFENCE  OF  THE  DIVINITY 
OF  CHRIST,"  and  "A  SHORT  DEFENCE  OF  THE  DOC- 
TRINE OF  THE  ATONEMENT." 

His  chief  studies  out  of  his  profession,  were  the  prin- 
ciples of  religion,  and  the  best  mode  of  propagating 
Christian  knowledge  and  promoting  Christian  practice ; 
and  he  spared  no  pains  (as  those  wrho  knew  him  best 
know)  to  enlighten  the  faith,  and  to  nourish  the  piety 
of  every  person  who  came  in  his  way ;  and  many  can 
testify  how  well  he  succeeded.  His  well-tempered  zeal 
for  religion  was  founded  on  a  solid  conviction,  drawn 
from  an  intimate  acquaintance  with  its  evidences,  and 
fortified  by  long  experience  of  its  consolations,  and  a 
constant  practice  of  its  precepts. 

At  the  age  of  eighteen  Mr.  Hey  united  himself  with 
the  Methodists,  under  the.  superintendence  and  direction 
of  Rev.  John  Wesley,  and  continued  in  connexion  with 
them  for  more  than  twenty  years,  and  participated 
actively  in  their  efforts  for  the  spread  of  religion.  He 
did  not  conceive  that  his  admission  as  a  member  of  the 
Methodist  Society,  implied  a  secession  from  the  Estab- 
lished Church.  It  appears  that  subsequently,  when 
forced  to  decide  that  question,  he  remained  with  the 
Establishment. 

In  the  year  1773,  Mr.  Hey  received  an  injury  in  his 
knee  by  striking  it  against  the  stone  work  of  a  bath,  the 


WILLIAM    HEY,    ESQ.  53 

effects  of  which  accident  were  aggravated,  soon  after,  by 
his  horse  falling  with  him.  These  injuries  laid  the  foun- 
dation of  a  lameness  which  continued  during  the  remain- 
der of  his  life.  But  about  three  years  afterwards  he 
received  a  stroke  upon  the  thigh  of  the  weak  limb,  which, 
for  a  time,  threatened  to  terminate  his  professional 
labours.  He  was  now,  when  in  the  full  tide  of  prospe- 
rity and  reputation  as  a  surgeon,  totally  disabled  from 
using  all  bodily  exertion,  and  it  appeared  probable  that 
he  would  never  regain  the  power  of  walking.  Deeply 
was  he  affected  by  this  afflictive  dispensation,  but  he  was 
enabled  to  sustain  it  with  a  meek  acquiescence  in  the 
Divine  will,  and  reliance  upon  the  gracious  declaration 
of  his  heavenly  Father.  "  If  it  be  the  will  of  God,"  said 
he,  to  an  intimate  friend,  "  that  I  should  be  confined  to 
my  sofa,  and  he  command  me  to  pick  straws  during  the 
remainder  of  my  life,  I  hope  I  should  feel  no  repugnance 
to  his  good  pleasure."  After  a  long  residence  at  Bath, 
he  was,  however,  able  once  more  to  resume  his  practice, 
with  the  assistance  of  a  carriage ;  but  from  this  period 
he  was  never  able  to  walk  without  a  crutch,  and  could 
not  bear  the  fatigue  of  standing  more  than  a  few  minutes 
at  a  time. 

But  other  trials  now  awaited  Mr.  Hey,  calculated  yet 

more  keenly  to  exercise  his  faith  and  patience,  as  a 

parent  as  well  as  a   Christian.     His  eldest  son,   Mr. 

Richard  Hey,  had  just  completed  his  medical  education, 

5* 


54  MEMOIR   OF 

and  commenced  assisting  his  father  in  the  anxieties  and 
fatigues  of  his  now  very  extensive  practice,  when  he  was 
attacked  with  symptoms  of  pulmonary  consumption. 
The  progress  of  the  disease  had  been  so  silent  and  in- 
sidious, that  the  day  of  his  marriage  had  been  fixed, 
and  preparations  made  for  its  celebration,  before  the 
indications  of  actual  danger  were  apparent  to  himself  or 
others.  The  disease  proceeded  with  unrelenting  rapidity, 
and  he  fell  a  sacrifice  to  it,  in  the  twenty-fifth  year  of 
his  age.  Miss  Alice  Hey,  Mr.  Key's  third  daughter, 
was,  within  a  few  years  after,  attacked  by  a  pulmonic 
complaint,  which  terminated  fatally.  About  this  time, 
his  two  sons,  John  and  Robert,  both  intended  for  the 
church,  were  pursuing  their  studies  at  Cambridge.  John 
took  a  seventh  wrangler's  degree,  and  was  elected  fel- 
low and  tutor  of  Magdalen  College.  But  his  ministerial 
duties,  to  which  he  devoted  himself  with  unwearied  dili- 
gence, proved  too  much  for  his  strength ;  the  insidious 
approaches  of  consumption  undermined  his  health,  and, 
just  when  he  was  about  to  be  united  to  the  object  of  his 
early  affection,  it  was  but  too  apparent  that  he  also  must 
soon  be  summoned  to  relinquish  every  earthly  connexion. 
He  perceived  his  danger,  and,  adopting  the  language  of  his 
Saviour  as  the  expression  of  his  heart,  "  The  cup  which 
my  Father  hath  given  me,  shall  I  not  drink  it  ?"  he  died, 
deeply  lamented  by  all  who  knew  him,  January  14th, 
1801,  in  the  twenty-fourth  year  of  his  age.  Robert 


WILLIAM   HEY,    ESQ.  55 

Hey  was  an  amiable  young  man,  and  endowed  with  no 
mean  talents ;  but  a  long  series  of  ill  health  interrupted 
his  progress  in  learning.  He  was  but  just  able  to  sup- 
port his  examination  in  the  senate-house,  when  he  was 
seized  with  spitting  of  blood,  which  terminated  in  a 
consumption,  on  May  14th,  1802,  when  in  the  twenty- 
fourth  year  of  his  age.  Mr.  Hey  experienced  all  that 
a  parent  could  feel  under  these  successive  disappoint- 
ments of  his  hopes  and  expectations ;  but  he  was  at  the 
same  time  cheered  and  refreshed  by  the  persuasion  that 
to  his  children  might  be  applied  those  consoling  words 
heard  from  heaven,  "Blessed  are  the  dead. which  die  in 
the  Lord ;"  and  he  was  wont  to  say,  that  his  ultimate 
end  respecting  them  was  answered,  inasmuch  as  he  had 
trained  them  up  to  become  inhabitants  of  that  kingdom 
into  which,  he  trusted,  they  had  been  mercifully  received. 
On  the  gravestone  of  John  he  inserted  these  words,  "  0 
death,  where  is  thy  sting?"  On  that  of  Robert,  "  0 
grave,  where  is  thy  victory  ?"  The  following  extracts 
from  a,  memorial,  composed  on  the  morning  of  the  day 
on  which  the  remains  of  his  son  Robert  Hey  were  com- 
mitted to  the  tomb,  present  a  striking  and  affecting  view 
of  the  state  of  Mr.  Key's  mind  under  that  affliction : — 
"  0  most  holy  and  glorious  Lord  God,  who  hast  declared 
thyself  gracious  and  merciful,  long-suffering,  and  abun- 
dant in  goodness  and  truth,  permit  thy  guilty  creature 
to  approach  thee  through  the  mediation  of  thy  Son  Jesus 


56  MEMOIR    OF 

Christ.  When  I  consider  myself,  I  can  draw  near  unto 
thee  with  no  other  language  than  that  of  the  publican, 
'  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sinner/  and  with  no  other 
plea,  than  that  Jesus  hath  died  for  my  sins,  and  is  risen 
again  for  my  justification."  .  .  .  "But  at  this  time  I 
would  offer  my  most  hearty  and  solemn  thanksgiving  for 
the  mercies  shown  to  my  dear  children.  Four  of  them 
thou  wast  pleased  to  call  out  of  this  dangerous  and  sinful 
world  during  the  state  of  infancy,  and  I  humbly  hope 
thou  didst  receive  them  to  glory.  Concerning  other 
four,  whom  thou  hast  called  hence  in  adult  age,  thou 
hast  graciously  given  me  the  most  solid  hopes.  Though 
by  nature  children  of  wrath  even  as  others,  thou  wast 
pleased  to  awaken  them  to  a  sense  of  the  odious  nature 
of  sin,  and  to  grant  them  true  repentance.  They  were 
early  taught  by  thy  grace  to  flee  for  refuge  to  the  Friend 
of  sinners :  and  thou  didst  prolong  their  lives  till  they 
had  given  clear  proofs  of  a  sound  conversion.  Though 
prepared,  as  I  hoped,  to  glorify  thee  on  earth,  thou  didst 
dispense  with  their  services,  and  remove  them  hence  in 
the  beginning  of  their  usefulness.  But  thy  grace  was 
with  them.  In  their  sickness  and  at  the  approach  of 
death,  they  were  enabled  to  rejoice  in  thy  salvation. 
The  last  of  them  I  am  about  to  commit  this  day  to  the 
silent  grave,  but  in  sure  and  certain  hope  of  a  joyful  re- 
surrection to  eternal  life.  What  shall  I  render  to  thee 
for  all  thy  mercies  ?  0  that  my  future  life  might  more 


WILLIAM    HEY,    ESQ.  57 

abundantly  show  forth  thy  praise  !  I  commit  those  of 
my  children,  who  yet  remain,  to  thy  fatherly  care.  0 
Lord,  watch  over  them,  and  preserve  them  from  the  evil 
that  is  in  the  world !  Enable  them  to  glorify  thee  in 
the  midst  of  a  crooked  and  perverse  generation.  And 
whenever  they  shall  be  called  hence,  may  they  join  their 
deceased  brothers  and  sisters  in  the  world  of  holiness 
and  bliss,  there  to  magnify  the  wonders  of  redeeming 
love  for  ever !" 

But  Mr.  Key's  cup  of  sorrow  was  not  yet  full.  He 
was,  not  long  after,  deprived  by  death  of  his  daughter- 
in-law,  Mrs.  William  Hey,  who  left  a  young  family  to 
mourn  their  irreparable  loss.  And  to  conclude  the 
mournful  detail,  before  many  years  more  had  passed, 
symptoms  of  consumption  made  their  appearance  in  his 
daughter,  Mrs.  Jarratt,  who  was  likewise  removed  from 
her  afflicted  husband  and  seven  children,  some  of  them 
very  young.  The  following  interesting  and  affecting 
letter,  written  to  Mrs.  Jarratt,  very  shortly  before  her 
death,  forcibly  depicts  those  sources  of  consolation 
which  sustained  his  own  mind  as  well  as  that  of  his 
beloved  daughter : — 

"  My  dear  Margaret, 

"  Let  not  your  heart  be  troubled,  neither  be  afraid ; 
your  Redeemer  is  gone  to  prepare  a  place  for  you :  and 
he  will  shortly  take  you  to  himself,  that  where  he  is 


58  MEMOIR   OF 

there  you  may  be  also.  In  his  presence  is  the  fulness 
of  joy,  and  at  his  right  hand  are  pleasures  for  evermore. 
Take  up  the  words  of  the  prophet,  and  say,  '  I  will  trust 
and  not  be  afraid :  for  the  Lord  Jehovah  is  my  strength 
and  my  song;  he  also  is  become  my  salvation.' — '  The 
Lord  taketh  pleasure  in  them  that  fear  him,  in  those 
that  hope  in  his  mercy.'  You  may,  therefore,  cheer- 
fully join  the  Psalmist  in  his  song  of  praise :  *  Though  I 
walk  through  the  valley  of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will 
fear  no  evil:  for  thou  art  with  me;  thy  rod  and  thy 
staff  they  comfort  me.'  The  state  into  which  it  has 
pleased  the  all-wise  Disposer  of  all  events  to  bring  you, 
calls  for  entire  submission  to  his  will,  and  a  patient 
enduring  of  all  that  you  may  suffer.  But  the  promise 
is  faithful  and  sure,  that  all  things  shall  '  work  together 
for  good  to  them  that  love  God.'  Whence  comes  the 
desire  to  please  and  the  fear  to  offend  him  ?  Doubtless 
from  love.  Whence  the  desire  to  be  assured  of  his 
favour  ?  From  love  assuredly.  We  are  careless  about 
the  favour  of  those  for  whom  we  have  little  regard,  but 
dread  the  frown  of  a  friend  whom  we  most  affectionately 
love.  But  let  us  remember,  that  often 

'Behind  a  frowning  providence, — He  hides  a  smiling  face.' 

May  the  richest  blessings  of  the  Almighty  be  with  you ! 
May  his  everlasting  arms  surround  and  support  you! 
Soon,  I  trust,  it  will  be  said  of  you,  by  the  angelic  host, 


WILLIAM  HEY,   ESQ.  59 

She  hath  l  washed  her  robes  and  made  them  white  in  the 
blood  of  the  Lamb :  therefore  she  is  before  the  throne 
of  God,  and  shall  serve  him  day  and  night  in  his  temple : 
— therefore  shall  she  be  led  to  living  fountains  of  water ; 
and  God  shall  wipe  away  all  tears  from  her  eyes.'  Your 
mother  and  sister  join  me  in  most  affectionate  regards ; 
and  assure  yourself  that  you  are  daily  remembered  in 
our  private  addresses  to  the  throne  of  grace.  I  remain 
your  afflicted,  but  affectionate  father, 

"WILLIAM  HEY." 

It  is  scarcely  necessary  to  remark,  that  Mr.  Hey 
hailed  with  great  delight  the  establishment  of  the 
British  and  Foreign  Bible  Society,  and  was  a  zealous 
supporter  of  the  Church  Missionary  society.  He  sub- 
scribed likewise  to  the  Moravian,  Baptist,  and  Wesleyan 
Missions.  But  it  deserves  to  be  noticed,  that,  upon  the 
first  establishment  of  Sunday  schools,  he  not  only  pro- 
moted the  introduction  of  those  useful  means  of  instruc- 
tion, upon  a  very  extensive  scale,  in  the  town  of  Leeds, 
but  himself  superintended  them,  and  even  until  the  age 
of  eighty  years,  continued  to  be  a  regular  and  diligent 
teacher ;  and  the  general  intelligence  and  superior  Scrip- 
ture knowledge  of  his  class,  were  a  striking  evidence  of 
the  judicious  and  successful  mode  of  his  instructions. 
On  one  occasion,  when  a  gentleman  was  detailing*  to  a 
number  of  teachers  the  method  adopted  in  another 


60  MEMOIR   OF 

school,  about  which  Mr.  Hey  felt  a  lively  interest,  the 
narrative  was  interrupted  by  his  sudden  indisposition. 
The  company  expressing  much  uneasiness  at  the  occur- 
rence, he  remarked,  "  My  spirits  are  just  as  buoyant  as 
they  were  fifty  years  ago ;  but  nature  reminds  me  that 
I  am  an  old  man.  I  exerted  my  voice  too  much  yester- 
day, while  leading  the  singing  of  the  scholars,  and  I  am 
suffering  for  my  imprudence." 

With  the  exception  of  his  lameness,  and  a  serious 
illness  of  some  weeks,  in  the  year  1808,  Mr.  Hey  gene- 
rally enjoyed  good  health  till  within  two  years  of  his 
death,  when  he  sustained  a  most  alarming  attack  of  a 
very  painful  and  dangerous  disease  in  the  bowels,  from 
which  it  was  scarcely  expected  that  he  would  recover. 
The  following  extracts  from  notes  made  by  one  of  his 
intimate  friends,  give  an  interesting  view  of  his  feelings 
and  prospects  during  this  affliction:  "When  the  violence 
of  the  complaint  had  so  much  abated  that  Mr.  Hey  was 
able  to  speak  a  little,  he  said,  '  I  was  perfectly  sensible 
of  my  situation ;  my  mind  was  as  collected  as  it  is  now. 
I  was  fully  persuaded,  that,  unless  it  should  please  God 
to  check  the  violence  of  the  disorder,  I  must  in  a  very 
short  time  stand  in  judgment  before  his  throne.  I  found 
no  support  or  comfort  but  in  believing  views  of  the  atone- 
ment made  by  Jesus.  On  this  foundation  alone,  rested 
all  my  hopes.  I  had  much  consolation  from  regarding 
the  Saviour  as  interceding  for  me.  Oh!  there  is  no 


61 

support,  no  comfort,  but  in  a  reliance  on  the  atonement 
and  intercession  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.'  He  adverted 
to  the  corruption  of  nature ;  observing  that,  whatever 
men  may  say  about  the  effects  of  the  fall,  there  is  no 
one  truth  in  the  Scripture  more  evident  than  this,  that 
a  complete  and  entire  change  must  take  place  in  us,  be- 
fore we  can  truly  relish  the  holy  and  pure  joys  and 
employments  of  the  heavenly  world.  This  the  apostle 
declares,  when  he  says,  '  if  any  man  be  in  Christ,  he  is 
a  new  creature,'  or  a  'new  creation.'  We  must  be  made 
different  from  what  we  were  before.  God  alone  can 
effect  this  great  change  in  the  soul.  He  then  spoke  in 
most  fervent  and  elevated  strains,  of  the  blessedness  of 
the  beatific  vision.  '  Oh !'  said  the  venerable  saint, 
'who  can  conceive  the  happiness  of  seeing  God,  of 
beholding  Him  who  is  infinite  beauty,  infinite  perfection ; 
and  not  only  beholding  Him  with  a  rectified  and  refined 
intellect,  but  in  beholding  to  be  transformed  into  His 
glorious  image  !  Surely,  it  is  the  highest  bliss  of  heaven 
to  see  God  as  He  is,  and  to  be  made  .like  him  !  What 
poor  low  conceptions  we  have  of  that  God,  who  is  all 
beauty  and  love  !  Who  can  conceive  the  blessedness  of 
seeing  Him  face  to  face !'  When  I  next  called  upon 
him,  '  Oh,  what  a  blessed  thing,'  said  he,  'is  it  to  be 
looking  unto  Jesus,  and  resting  upon  the  promises  of 
God  in  Him  !  Where  can  a  poor  sinner  look  but  unto 
Jesus  ?  In  Him  he  finds  all  he  wants.  My  prayer  is 


62  MEMOIR   OF 

that  of  the  poor  publican,  "  God  be  merciful  to  me  a  sin- 
ner."  This  prayer  ever  was,  and  ever  will  be,  graciously 
answered.  I  rest  all  my  hopes  on  the  promises  of  Christ. 
If  this  foundation  sink,  I  am  willing  to  sink  with  it ;'  but? 
added  he,  with  a  holy  fervour,  i  I  am  sure  it  cannot  sink : 
it  is  firmer  than  earth  or  heaven  !  What  a  delightful 
declaration  is  that  in  the  third  chapter  of  the  first 
Epistle  of  St.  John !  "  Behold  what  manner  of  love 
the  Father  hath  bestowed  upon  us,  that  we  should  be 
called  the  sons  of  God !"  But  observe  the  connexion 
between  the  believer's  hope  of  glory  and  its  purifying 
effect.  "  Every  man  that  hath  this  hope  in  Him  puri- 
fieth  himself,  even  as  He  is  pure." '  He  then  recited 
this  favourite  text :  4  These  things  write  I  unto  you,  that 
ye  sin  not.  And  if  any  man  sin,  we  have  an  Advocate 
with  the  Father,  Jesus  Christ  the  righteous  :  and  He  is 
the  propitiation  for  our  sins ;  and  not  for  ours  only,  but 
also  for  the  sins  of  the  whole  world.'  What  a  free  offer 
is  here  made  to  the  whole  world !  If  we  are  not  saved 
it  is  because  we  will  not  come  to  Christ,  that  we  may 
have  life.  The  fault  lies  in  ourselves.  Then,  speaking 
on  the  blessedness  of  seeing  God  and  being  made  like 
Him,  '  This,  this,'  said  he,  '  is  heaven !  I  know  no 
other.  Oh,  how  I  long  to  be  like  Him !'  " 

It  pleased  God  once  more,  however,  to  restore  his 
servant,  after  a  confinement  of  more  than  three  months, 
and  although  he  never  perfectly  recovered  from  the  in- 


WILLIAM  HEY,   ESQ.  63 

jury  inflicted  on  his  constitution  by  this  long  and  severe 
indisposition,  his  strength  was  not  remarkably  impaired 
nor  his  vigour  abated.  Hence  he  would  often  remark 
that  he  was  obliged  to  bring  in  the  aid  of  reason  to  tell 
him  that  he  was  an  old  man.  At  the  advanced  period 
of  eighty-two,  he  moved  about  with  much  alertness  and 
agility :  the  sight  of  his  single  eye  was  remarkably  good, 
and  his  handwriting  was  firm  and  distinct.  When  men- 
tioning, in  conversation,  about  six  months  before  his 
death,  the  words  of  the  Psalmist — "The  days  of  our 
years  are  threescore  years  and  ten ;  and  if  by  reason  of 
strength  they  be  fourscore  years,  yet  is  their  strength 
labour  and  sorrow,"  he  added  with  a  smile,  "But  I  have 
not  found  them  either  labour  or  sorrow."  Much  of  this 
freshness  and  vigour  may  be  ascribed,  under  the  blessing 
of  God,  to  his  early  rising,  his  strict  habits  of  temperance, 
the  equanimity  of  his  temper,  and  that  internal  peace  and 
composure  which  resulted  from  his  humble  but  steadfast 
faith,  and  his  habit  of  continual  communion  with  God. 
Mr.  Hey  was  enabled  to  live  constantly  in  the  spirit  of 
prayer.  "It  is  a  very  desirable  thing,"  he  says  in  a 
letter  to  Miss  Hey,  dated  October  24,  1799,  "  to  be  en- 
abled to  hold  a  kind  of  secret  communion  with  God  in 
our  minds,  while  engaged  in  the  common  scenes  and 
duties  of  life.  I  can  remember  some  seasons  when  I  was 
young,  and  had  not  a  multitude  of  cares  to  distract  me,  that 
I  have  been  enabled  to  keep  my  mind  much  occupied  in 


64  MEMOIR   OF 

the  contemplation  of  Divine  things.  A  multitude  of  im- 
portant concerns  now  press  upon  me,  yet  I  find  much 
refreshment  and  strength  from  secret  ejaculations.  When 
this  is  neglected,  my  mind  grows  dry  and  uncomfortable." 
"  The  cheerful  and  happy  state  of  Mr.  Hey's  mind  in 
the  latter  years  of  his  life,"  says  one  who  knew  him  well, 
"  may  be  easily  accounted  for.  He  had  no  time  to  be 
unhappy.  His  life  was  usefully  employed,  and  he  was 
conscious  that  he  lived  for  valuable  and  useful  purposes. 
His  views  of  the  gospel  of  Jesus  Christ  were  remarkably 
clear  and  distinct.  He  was  deeply  sensible  that  his  own 
righteousness  could  never  justify  him  before  God ;  but 
he  had  likewise  learned  that  there  is  forgiveness  with 
him,  and  that  mercy  is  freely  and  fully  bestowed  on 
every  repenting  sinner  who  has  fled  for  refuge  to  the 
hope  set  before  him  in  the  gospel.  He  did  not  esteem 
it  presumptuous  to  believe  that  God  was  his  reconciled 
Father  in  Christ  Jesus ;  that  all  things  under  the  direc- 
tion of  infinite  wisdom  and  boundless  goodness  were 
contributing  to  the  final  salvation  and  everlasting  happi- 
ness of  himself  and  of  all  who  truly  loved  and  feared 
God.  This  assurance  of  hope  he  endeavoured  to  main- 
tain firm  to  the  end.  Perhaps  few  persons  lived  under 
a  more  abiding  sense  of  the  Divine  favour  than  Mr.  Hey. 
He  loved  God,  he  delighted  in  His  service,  he  walked 
with  Him,  and  here  was  the  prime  source  of  all  his  hap- 
piness. The  spirit  of  adoption,  which  was  the  prevailing 


WILLIAM   HEY,    ESQ.  65 

temper  of  Ms  mind,  shed  a  bright  lustre  on  the  surround- 
ing prospects  of  life,  and  opened  a  vista  through  which 
the  eye  of  faith  already  caught  some  beams  of  that  light 
which  shall  shortly  pour  an  eternal  day  of  joy  and  glad- 
ness on  the  people  of  God." 

The  closing  scene  of  Mr.  Hey's  life  is  thus  recorded 
by  an  old  and  affectionate  friend : — 

"  It  hath  pleased  our  Heavenly  Father  to  call  the 
happy  spirit  of  our  beloved  friend,  to  that  c  rest  which 
remaineth  for  the  people  of  God.'  About  a  quarter 
before  six  o'clock  in  the  evening  of  the  23d  of  March, 
1819,  he  took  his  flight  to  those  bright  regions  of  which 
he  was  already  a  citizen  (Philippians  iii.  20),  on  which 
his  affections  had  long  been  placed,  and  towards  which 
he  had  been  enabled,  through  grace,  to  tread  with  steady 
steps  from  early  youth  to  a  venerable  old  age.  His  end 
was  peace. 

"During  a  great  part  of  his  illness,  which  was 
attended  with  much  weakness,  he  slumbered,  or  was 
affected  by  slight  and  interrupted  attacks  of  delirium. 
These  were  of  short  duration,  and  his  friends  had  the 
relief  of  witnessing  many  lucid  intervals.  On  Sunday 
morning,  March  14th,  he  wrote  the  following  note  to  his 
beloved  pastor  and  friend,  the  Rev.  Miles  Jackson : — 

"  My  dear  Friend : 
"  With  unfeigned  gratitude,  I  desire  to  inform  you 


66  MEMOIR   OF 

that  I  am  free  from  pain  (though  extremely  weak), 
except  when  the  hiccough  comes  on,  which  is  generally 
excited  by  an  exertion.  I  desire  to  be  as  clay  in  the 
hands  of  the  potter,  and  to  have  the  Lord  Jesus  for  my 
strength  and  stay.  WILLIAM  HEY. 

"On  Saturday  forenoon,  March  20,  about  twelve 
o'clock,  as  he  came  out  of  a  slumber  he  inquired,  '  Is  it 
day  or  night?  What  o'clock  is  it?'  When  told,  he 
said,  '  I  should  like  to  know  my  real  state ;  but  I  am 
not  anxious  about  it,  I  would  truly  wish  to  lie  as  clay  in 
the  hands  of  the  potter,  from  the  ground  of  my  heart.' 

"I  saw  our  dear  friend  on  the  Monday  morning, 
before  his  death,  for  the  first  time ;  he  was  in  a  kind  of 
slumber.  Miss  Hey  mentioned  my  name.  He  just  said, 
with  a  faint  voice,  'My  friends  are  all  very  kind  in 
coming  to  see  me.'  He  then  sunk  into  his  previous 
state  of  stupor. 

"  The  Eev.  Mr.  Jackson  called  upon  him  about  half 
past  twelve  the  same  day; — he  moved  his  hand  out 
of  bed,  and  pressed  Mr.  Jackson's  with  his  usual 
warmth  of  feeling.  Mr.  Jackson  said,  <  Shall  I  offer 
up  a  short  prayer  ?'  He  replied,  <  By  all  means — by  all 
means.  During  the  recommendatory  prayer  he  repeated 
Amen  several  times  with  considerable  fervour;  and  then 
added,  ( 0  0-od  of  Love,  make  me.  more — make  me 
more — ."  and  was  unable  to  finish  the  petition.  He 


WILLIAM   HEY,   ESQ.  67 

said,  directing  himself  to  Mr.  Jackson,  '  Be  with  thy 
servant ! — Be  with  him  who  hath  prayed  for  me  !' 

"  After  I  left  him,  he  revived  a  little,  and  said  to  his 
daughter,  Miss  Hey,  'My  love, — you  are  my  love,  I 
must  take  my  leave  of  you.  Farewell !  Farewell !' 
She  said  to  him,  'Is  the  Blessed  Jesus  precious  to  you?' 
After  a  pause,  he  replied,  '  My  trust  is  in  Christ — He 
is  my  Saviour — He  is  my  Redeemer  !' — repeating  the 
expressions  more  than  once. 

"  After  a  short  pause  had  elapsed,  Mrs.  Hey  came 
and  took  hold  of  his  hand.  He  looked  at  her  and  said 
with  a  pleasant  voice,  '  What  are  you  come  for,  my  dear 
love  ?  To  see  me  before  I  die  ? — My  dear  wife,  you  see 
your  husband  laid  upon  his  death-bed ; — you  see  him 
dying/ 

"At  intervals  he  was  heard  to  say  in  broken  ac- 
cents, 'To  worship  God;  to  worship  the  Lord  Jesus 
Christ — .'  These  expressions  were  connected  with  other 
words,  which  could  not  be  collected  from  the  weakness 
of  his  voice. 

"  Some  time  after  twelve  o'clock,  he  said  to  Miss 
Hey,  '  0  let  us  awake  from  sin !  My  dear  love,  awake 
to  righteousness  !  I  die  very  soon.' 

"  On  one  occasion,  as  he  was  lying  with  his  eyes  open, 
Miss  Hey  heard  him  say,  'Glory — praise — glory — !' 
as  if  his  soul  had  been  wrapt  in  holy  meditation,  and  he 
saw  the  Heavenly  Canaan  near ! 


68  MEMOIR   OF   WILLIAM   HEY,    ESQ. 

"  About  twenty  minutes  before  six  o'clock  on  Tues- 
day evening,  March  23,  Mrs.  Hey  came  to  the  bed- 
side. She  had  been  informed,  I  believe,  of  the  nearness 
of  Mr.  Hey's  departure.  Feeble  and  trembling,  I  took 
her  by  the  hand  to  conduct  her  to  her  chair ;  whilst  I 
was  leading  her  from  the  bedside,  Mr.  Hey  made  a  pe- 
culiar kind  of  shrill  noise :  I  thought  that  it  was,  pro- 
bably, the  last  effort  of  expiring  nature.  When  I  had 
placed  Mrs.  Hey  in  her  chair,  I  returned  to  the  bed, 
looked  for  a  minute  or  two,  but  perceived  no  heaving  of 
the  breast :  The  silver  cord  was  loosed — the  happy  spirit 
had  taken  its  everlasting  flight !" 


(69) 


"This  maxim,  however,  I  wish  to  abide  by,  living  or  dying: — 
*  THAT  ONLY  is  BEST,  AND  ALONE  TO  BE  DESIRED,  WHICH  is  PERFECTLY 

AGREEABLE  TO  THE  DlVINE  GOODNESS  AND  MAJESTY.'  " — BOERRHAAVE. 

"It  was  his  constant  habit  to  devdte  the  first  hour  of  every  day  to 
prayer  and  meditation  on  the  WORD  OP  GOD — a  practice  which  he 
recommended  to  others,  declaring  that  he  derived  from  it  a  vigour 
which  carried  him  through  all  the  toils  of  his  profession.  A  friend, 
seeing  him  unmoved  by  great  provocation,  asked  whether  it  was  by 
nature  or  by  art  that  he  maintained  such  equanimity.  He  attributed 
the  conquest  to  the  above  habit  alone." — Sketch  of  HERMANN  BOEBR- 
HAAVE,  M.  D. 


(70) 


MEMOIK  OF 
JOHN"  MASON  GOOD,  M.  D.,  F.  R  S. 

FELLOW  OF  THE  ROYAL  SOCIETY  OP  LONDON,  MEMBER  OF  THE  AMERI- 
CAN PHILOSOPHICAL  SOCIETY,  &c. 

JOHN  MASON  GOOD  was  the  son  of  the  Rev.  Peter 
Good,  and,  on  his  mother's  side,  was  nearly  related 
to  John  Mason,  the  author  of  "  Self-Knowledge."  He 
received  the  rudiments  of  his  education  in  a  seminary 
conducted  by  his  father,  and  early  evinced  those  mental 
feelings  and  capabilities  which  contributed  to  the  ultimate 
development  of  no  ordinary  character.  Delighting  in 
intellectual  pursuits  of  every  kind — blessed  throughout 
life  with  corporeal  vigour,  and  the  highest  degree  of 
mental  elasticity — endowed  with  a  memory  extraordi- 
narily retentive,  from  the  ample  stores  of  which  he  could 
draw  at  any  time  with  the  greatest  promptness,  he 
excelled  alike  in  acquiring,  retaining,  and  imparting 
knowledge.  Combining  the  opposite  attributes  of  con- 
templation and  activity,  he  attained  unusual  eminence, 
not  only  in  his  profession,  but  as  a  man  of  general 

(71) 


72  MEMOIR   OF 

science — not  in  one  department  of  literature  merely, 
but  in  many  at  the  same  time.  Benevolent,  communi- 
cative, and  habitually  cheerful,  there  was  a  charm  in  his 
society  which  delighted  all  who  were  privileged  to  enjoy 
it,  and  in  every  relation  of  life  he  was  esteemed  and 
beloved  in  no  ordinary  degree. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen,  young  Good  was  apprenticed 
to  a  general  practitioner  at  Gosport,  in  whose  employ 
his  time  was  necessarily  much  occupied,  but  he  still 
found  leisure  to  increase  his  already  ample  literary  and 
scientific  store  of  knowledge,  as  well  as  to  exercise  his 
powers  in  original  composition.  At  this  early  age  he 
wrote  many  poems,  and  his  taste  as  well  as  diligence 
was  exemplified  by  a  volume  of  extracts,  in  which  he 
laid  nearly  one  hundred  authors — Greek,  Latin,  French, 
Italian,  and  English — under  contribution.  The  winter 
of  1783-4  was  spent  in  London.  He  was  now  in  his 
twentieth  year,  and,  meeting  with  a  few  associates  of 
kindred  minds,  we  may  readily  imagine  how  ardently  he 
would  pursue  his  professional  and  scientific  inquiries. 
No  sooner  was  the  session  finished,  than  we  find  him, 
with  strong  recommendation  from  his  hospital  friends, 
entering  at  once  into  partnership  with  Mr.  Deeks,  a 
respectable  surgeon  at  Sudbury,  in  Suffolk ;  and,  within 
the  short  space  of  a  few  months,  that  gentleman  left  the 
entire  business  in  his  hands. 

At  this  juncture  Mr.  Good  appeared  to  have  reached 


JOHN  MASON   GOOD,    M.  D.  73 

the  very  summit  of  earthly  happiness.  Engaged  in  pur- 
suits congenial  to  his  taste,  and  possessing  cheerful  and 
engaging  manners,  combined  with  a  disposition  ready  to 
evince  the  liveliest  sympathy  in  cases  where  it  was  most 
needed,  many  proofs  of  his  surgical  skill  soon  were 
given,  which  imparted  a  solidity  .and  extent  to  his  repu- 
tation, beyond  what  could  have  been  anticipated.  He 
was,  moreover,  united  to  a  highly  accomplished  and 
amiable  young  lady,  to  whom  he  was  affectionately 
attached.  But  alas !  there  was  a  worm  at  the  root  of 
this  felicity.  In  little  more  than  six  months  after  their 
marriage,  his  youthful  bride  died  of  consumption,  and  it 
was  his  bitter  lot  to  experience  that 

"  Chords  which  vibrate  sweetest  pleasure, 
Thrill  the  deepest  notes  of  woe." 

After  Mr.  Good  had  remained  for  four  years  a 
widower,  endeavouring,  by  professional  avocations,  scien- 
tific pursuits,  and  the  soothing  influence  of  society,  to 
recover  his  native  cheerfulness,  he  again  married,  and 
the  object  of  his  choice  was  a  daughter  of  Thomas  Fenn, 
Esq.,  a  highly  respectable  banker  at  Sudbury. 

In  the  year  1792,  either  by  becoming  legally  bound 
for  some  friends,  or  by  advancing  them  a  large  sum  of 
money,  as  to  the  expected  repayment  of  which  he  was 
disappointed,  Mr.  Good  was  brought  into  circumstances 
of  considerable  pecuniary  embarrassment.  Mr.  Fenn 
7 


74  MEMOIR   OF 

cheerfully  stepped  forward  to  remove  his  difficulties,  and 
would  have  rendered  him  more  effectual  aid,  had  not 
Mr.  Good  resolved  that  perplexities,  resulting  from  his 
own  want  of  caution,,  should  be  removed  principally  by 
his  own  exertions ;  and  he  forthwith  entered  upon  a 
course  of  literary  activity,  which,  though  interrupted 
by  repeated  disappointments,  did  ultimately  issue  in 
the  desired  end.  He  forwarded  numerous  contributions 
to  periodical  publications ;  he  wrote  plays ;  he  composed 
poems;  he  prepared  a  series  of  philosophical  essays; 
and  at  length  determined  on  removing  to  London,  where, 
in  the  early  part  of  the  following  year,  he  accepted  a 

proposal  to  go  into  partnership  with  a  Mr.  W ,  a 

surgeon  and  apothecary  in  extensive  practice,  and  who 
had  likewise  an  official  connexion  with  one  of  the  pri- 
sons. But  in  this  connexion  he  met  with  nothing  but 
perplexity  and  trial.  Mr.  W.  became  jealous  of  his 
talents  and  rising  popularity,  and  had  recourse  to  the 
basest  means  to  injure  his  reputation;  the  business 
failed ;  the  partnership  was  dissolved,  and  Mr.  W.  died 
in  the  Fleet  prison.  All  these  circumstances,  however, 
— the  defeat  of  projects  on  which  his  hopes  had  been 
fondly  fixed,  and  an  increasing  family, — did  but  supply 
Mr.  Good  with  fresh  incentives  to  professional  activity 
and  extended  literary  research.  Again  he  shrank  from 
a  full  reception  of  the  aid  once  more  offered  to  him  by 
his  kind  relative  at  Sudbury,  and,  concealing  his  anxie- 


JOHN   MASON   GOOD,    M.  D.  75 

ties  from  those  he  most  loved,  still  continued  to  rely 
upon  his  own  exertions  for  success,  till  he  was  at  length 
placed  by  them,  under  God's  blessing,  in  reputable  and 
easy  circumstances. 

It  was  not  long  before  he  was  enabled  to  obtain  that 
distinction  amongst  medical  men  which  he  eagerly 
sought.  In  February,  1795,  he  gained  a  prize — .a 
premium  of  twenty  guineas — from  the  "Medical  So- 
ciety," for  the  best  dissertation  upon  the  question, 
"What  are  the  diseases  most  frequent  in  workhouses, 
poor-houses,  and  similar  institutions ;  and  what  are  the 
best  means  of  cure  and  of  prevention  ?"  which  he  was 
requested  to  publish  immediately.  And  he  also  became 
an  active  member  of  a  society,  formed  in  the  year  1794, 
under  the  title  of  the  "  General  Pharmaceutic  Associa- 
tion," the  object  of  which  was  to  preserve  the  distinc- 
tion between  the  apothecary,  and  the  druggist,  which  it 
was  feared,  unless  some  special  efforts  were  adopted, 
would  soon  be  altogether  lost.  Not  only  in  London, 
but  throughout  Great  Britain,  men  of  the  most  illiterate 
character,  and  grossly  ignorant  of  the  science  of  medi- 
cine, did  not  hesitate  to  combine  the  practice  of  it  with 
the  business  of  retailing  drugs,  to  which,  in  the  country, 
the  department  of  "grocer"  was  occasionally  added. 
Engaging  very  warmly  in  the  objects  of  this  associa- 
tion, at  whose  suggestion  he  drew  up  a  "  History  of 
Medicine,  as  far  as  relates  to  the  profession  of  the  Apo- 


76  MEMOIR   OF 

thecary,"  and  in  others  connected  with  his  profession, 
Mr.  Good  still  continued  to  pursue  his  literary  inquiries, 
and,  as  heretofore,  to  soothe  his  mind  by  the  delights  of 
poetry.  Translations  from  the  poets  of  France  and  Italy 
now  occupied  much  of  his  comparatively  leisure  hours. 
In  a  letter  to  his  friend  Dr.  Drake,  in  October,  1799,  he 
speaks  of  "having  just  begun  the  German  language, 
after  having  gone  with  tolerable  ease  through  the  French, 
Italian,  Spanish,  and  Portuguese;"  and,  not  very  long 
after,  he  informs  him  he  had  been  "  sedulously  studying 
Arabic  and  Persian."  About  this  time  he  commenced, 
and,  in  two  years,  completed,  a  translation  of  Lucretius, 
"On  the  Nature  of  Things,"  an  undertaking  in  which 
he  engaged,  according  to  his  own  statement,  that  he 
might  bring  himself  under  a  moral  necessity  of  becoming 
thoroughly  acquainted  with  the  utmost  possible  variety 
of  subjects  upon  which  men  of  science  had  been  able  to 
throw  any  light.  This  translation  was  carried  on  in  a 
way  not  very  usual  with  works  of  such  magnitude — it 
was  composed  in  the  streets  of  London,  during  the  trans- 
lator's extensive  walks  to  visit  his  numerous  patients. 
His  practice  was  to  take  in  his  pocket  two  or  three 
leaves  of  an  octavo  edition  of  the  original ;  to  read  over 
a  passage  two  or  three  times  as  he  walked  along,  until 
he  had  engraven  it  upon  his  ready  memory ;  then  to 
translate  the  passage,  meditate  upon  his  translation,  cor- 
rect and  elaborate  it,  until  he  had  satisfied  himself ;  and, 


JOHN   MASON   GOOD,    M.  D.  77 

after  he  had  returned  home,  and  disposed  of  all  his  pro- 
fessional business,  he  would  go  to  his  standing  desk,  and 
enter  upon  his  manuscript  so  much  of  the  translation  as 
he  had  been  able  to  prepare  satisfactorily.  During 
several  following  years,  in  addition  to  the  task  of  com- 
piling elaborate  notes  and  a  running  commentary  in 
connexion  with  the  above  translation,  Mr.  Good  contri- 
buted largely  to  the  Analytical  and  Critical  Review,  the 
British  and  Monthly  Magazines,  and,  besides  smaller 
pieces,  published  a  "  Memoir  of  the  Life  and  Writings 
of  Dr.  Geddes."  Nor  was  this  all.  In  a  letter  to  the 
friend  above  mentioned,  dated  January  29, 1803 — when, 
notwithstanding  these  engagements,  he  was  in  the  habit 
of  walking  from  twelve  to  fourteen  miles  a  day  to  visit 
his  patients — adverting  with  thankfulness  to  the  state  of 
his  practice  as  a  surge'on  (which  then  produced  more 
than  1400?.  per  annum),  he  proceeds  thus :  "  I  have 
edited  the  Critical  Review,  besides  writing  several  of  its 
most  elaborate  articles.  I  have  every  week  supplied  a 
column  of  matter  for  the  '  Sunday  Review,'  and  for  some 
days  have  had  the  great  weight  of  the  'British  Press' 
upon  my  hands ;  the  committee  for  conducting  which 
having  applied  to  me  lately,  in  the  utmost  consternation, 
in  consequence  of  a  trick  put  upon  them  by  the  propri- 
etors of  other  newspapers,  and  which  stopped  abruptly 
the  exertions  of  their  editor,  and  several  of  their  most 
valuable  hands."  It  should  also  be  mentioned,  that  a 
7* 


78  MEMOIR   OF 

work  which  Mr.  Good  undertook,  in  conjunction  with 
Dr.  Olinthus  Gregory  and  Mr.  Newton  Bosworth,  en- 
titled "Pantologia;  or,  a  Universal  Dictionary  of  Arts, 
Sciences,  and  Words,"  and  which  was  published  in 
twelve  thick  and  closely-printed  volumes,  royal  octavo, 
occupied  much  of  his  time  between  the  years  1804  and 
1812.  It  seems  difficult  to  imagine  how  he  could,  with 
any  degree  of  efficiency,  have  pursued  such  a  variety  of 
occupations ;  but  such,  it  is  said,  was  the  "  energy  of  his 
mind,  and  such  his  habits  of  activity  and  order,  that  he 
carried  them  all  forward  simultaneously,  suffering  none 
to  be  neglected,  left  in  arrear,  or  inadequately  executed." 

Hitherto  it  might  emphatically  be  said  of  Mr.  Good, 
"But  one  thing  thou  lackest;"  that  one,  however,  by 
far  the  most  momentous  of  all.  But  the  early  dawn  of 
a  brighter  day  was  now  approaching.  At  first,  an 
almost  imperceptible,  but  gradual,  change  took  place  in 
his  religious  views  and  prospects.  The  "  dayspring  from 
on  high"  visited  him,  enabled  him  to  emerge  from  the 
darkness  even  of  Socinian  heresy ;  guided  his  feet  into 
the  away  of  peace;"  and  shone  with  increasing  bright- 
ness upon  his  latter  years,  till  it  conducted  his  happy 
spirit  to  that  city  which  "the  glory  of  God"  doth  lighten, 
"  and  the  Lamb  is  the  light  thereof." 

In  consequence,  probably,  of  early  associations,  Mr. 
Good  always  expressed,  and  no  doubt  felt,  a  high  respect 
for  religion  and  religious  men,  and  appears  never  to 


79 

have  called  in  question  the  genuineness  and  Divine 
authority  of  the  sacred  Scriptures ;  but  before  he  left 
Sudbury,  he  avowed  his  belief  in  materialism,  and  the 
doctrine  of  Universalists  with  regard  to  future  punish- 
ment, and  selected  for  his  principal  associates  some  gen- 
tlemen who  maintained  the  soul-destroying  tenets  of 
modern  Socinianism.  On  his  removal  to  London,  he 
was,  unhappily,  induced  to  join  the  most  celebrated  Uni- 
tarian congregation  of  the  day,  and  he  continued  in  con- 
nexion with  it  for  fourteen  years.  During  all  this  time,  the 
Bible  was  always  a  favourite  book  with  him,  but  it  is  to 
be  feared  he  turned  to  it  rather  as  a  source  of  literary 
amusement  or  critical  speculation,  than  for  any  higher 
purposes.  But  his  mindr  as  he  afterwards  confessed, 
•was  ill  at  ease.  Early  recollections  of  better  sentiments 
often  assailed  him.  Numerous  engagements,  and  the 
delights  of  the  literary  society  into  which  he  was  intro- 
duced soon  after  his  removal  to  town,  enabled  him,  in  a 
great  measure,  to  stifle  such  convictions,  but  without  the 
possession  of  inward  serenity  or  peace.  Still  he  was,  in 
a  measure,  preserved  from  some  of  the  worst  tendencies 
of  the  system ;  and  when  his  teacher,  the  notorious  Mr. 
Belsham,  used  language  in  the  pulpit  which  Mr.  Good 
regarded  as  equivalent  to  the  recommendation  of  scepti- 
cism, he  at  once  wrote  a  note  to  him,  stating  that  he  felt 
compelled,  with  much  reluctance,  to  discontinue  attend- 
ance at  his  chapel,  and  to  break  off  connexion  with  his 


MEMOIR   OF 

society.  This  circumstance  led  him  to  a  re-examination 
of  all  the  sentiments  held  by  them  in  common,  and  the 
consequence  was,  a  gradual  surrender  of  all  the  leading 
tenets  of  the  Socinian  creed,  and  a  corresponding  adop- 
tion of  sentiments  more  and  more  in  unison  with  the 
great  fundamental  doctrines  of  scriptural  Christianity. 
As  yet,  however,  he  looked  upon  them  as  little  more  than 
speculative  opinions,  simply  preferable  to  those  he  had 
just  abandoned.  It  was  still  a  considerable  time  before 
they  assumed  the  character  of  principles  of  action,  and 
issued,  by  the  teaching  and  blessing  of  the  Spirit  of  God, 
in  the  transformation  of  his  heart  and  affections.  This 
great  change  was  brought  about  in  so  very  imperceptible 
a  manner,  that  the  precise  epoch  of  it  was  not  known  to 
his  nearest  friends — probably  not  to  Mr.  Good  himself ; 
but  its  reality  was  indisputable.  One  thing  was  evident 
to  all,  that  whereas  he  "was  once  blind/'  he  subsequently 
obtained  the  sense  of  spiritual  sight ;  and  it  was  with  no 
small  emotions,  of  joy,  that  some  who  had  mourned  over 
the  midnight  darkness  of  such  a  mind,  now  witnessed  the 
light  which  was  in  him,  shining  "  more  and  more  unto 
the  perfect  day."  "  When  you  are  weighing  things  in 
the  balance,"  says  Baxter,  "you  may  add  grain  after 
grain  and  it  makes  no  turning  or  motion  at  all,  till  you 
come  to  the  very  last  grain,  and  then  suddenly  that  end 
which  was  downward  is  turned  upward.  So  is  it  (not 
unfrequently)  in  the  change  of  a  sinner's  heart  and  life ; 


JOHN   MASON   GOOD,  M.  D.  81 

he  is  not  changed  (but  preparing  towards  it)  while  he  is 
but  deliberating  whether  he  should  choose  Christ  or  the 
world.  But  the  last  reason  which  comes  in  and  deter- 
mineth  his  will  to  Christ,  and  maketh  him  resolve  and 
enter  a  firm  covenant  with  him,  this  makes  the  greatest 
change  that  ever  is  made  by  any  work  in  the  world.  For 
how  can  there  be  a  greater  than  the  turning  of  a  soul 
from  the  creature  to  the  Creator?  so  distant  are  the 
terms  of  this  change.  After  this  one  turning  act,  Christ 
hath  that  heart,  and  the  main  bent  and  endeavours  of  the 
life,  which  the  world  had  before.  The  man  hath  a  new 
end,  a  new  rule,  a  new  guide,  and  a  new  Master."  Thus 
it  was  with  Mr.  Good ;  furnishing  one  instance  among 
many  of  that  striking  diversity  of  operations  wherewith 
the  same  Spirit  worketh  all  in  all.  However  long  there 
might  continue  an  uncertain  suspense,  the  "  last  grain" 
was  at  length  mercifully  applied,  and  the  indications  of 
the  balance  were  no  longer  doubtful.  In  accomplishing 
and  confirming  this  change,  several  afflicting  dispensa- 
tions of  Providence  seem  to  have  been  in  a  great  measure 
instrumental.  Among  these  was  the  death  of  his  beloved 
son-in-law.  In  relation  to  it  he  writes  to  Dr.  Drake, 
August  18,  1823, — "  The  conflict  is  now  over ;  he  has 
entered  into  his  rest,  as  you  may  have  probably  seen  by 
the  newspapers,  on  Friday  the  8th  instant.  He  suffered 
much  at  times,  and  the  pain  alone  was  sufficient — and 
especially  towards  the  close  of  the  struggle — to  throw 


82  MEMOIE   OF 

him  into  severe  perspiration ;  but  his  remark  was,  '  My 
Saviour  sweated  drops  of  blood  for  me/  and  this  upheld 
him.  It  was  a  severe  conflict  to  break  off  his  strong 
attachment  to  his  beloved  children,  and  his  still  more 
beloved  wife ;  and  yet,  at  last,  he  was  enabled  to  make 
a  total  surrender  of  himself  to  the  will  of  God,  and  for 
months  had  his  conversation  in^  heaven  far  more  than  on 

earth During  the  night  before  his  departure, 

it  was  observed  by  Mrs.  Good,  who  sat  up  by  him,  that 
she  was  fearful  the  night  had  been  tedious  to  him :  he 
replied,  '  I  shall  have  a  long  and  glorious  day.'  He 
spoke  prophetically,  and  the  prophecy  was  fulfilled. 
What,  my  dear  friend,  are  all  the  splendour  and  the 
pageantry  in  the  world,  compared  with  the  sublime  and 
solemn  scenes  to  which  I  have  thus  been  an  eye-witness  ? 
Surely  these  are  foretastes  of  that  <  fulness  of  joy,'  and 
those  4  pleasures  for  evermore,'  which  are  reserved  at  the 
right  hand  of  God,  for  those  who  are  favoured  with  so 
beatific  a  vision.  They  give,  if  it  were  wanted,  a  fresh 
and  energetic  stamp  of  reality  to  the  glorious  manifesta- 
tion of  the  gospel,  and  show  us  for  what  we  were  born, 
and  the  more  important  lesson  how  this  high  destiny  may 
be  obtained.  My  earnest  prayer  is,  that  the  lesson  may 
be  lost  on  no  one  within  its  sphere ;  and,  with  the  feeble 
powers  of  my  own  pen,  I  would  enlarge  that  sphere,  if 
possible,  throughout  the  universe;  and. I  would  address 


JOHN  MASON  GOOD,   M.  D.  83 

it  to  you,  my  dear  friend,  as  importunately  as  to  my- 
self." 

Mr.  Good  now  earnestly  cultivated  the  acquaintance 
of  pious  men.  After  the  breach  of  his  connexion  with 
the  Unitarian  congregation  before  mentioned,  he  was, 
for  some  time,  an  attendant  at  the  Temple  Church,  and 
afterwards  at  St.  Dunstan's,  Fleet  Street ;  and  his  pri- 
vate intercourse  with  Mr.  Lloyd,  the  rector  of  the  latter 
church,  was  of  much  use  to  him  in  the  best  of  senses ; 
but  during  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  a  cordial  esteem 
for  the  minister  and  his  doctrines  led  him  almost  con- 
stantly to  worship  at  St.  John's  Chapel,  Bedford  Row, 
where  he  availed  himself  of  the  successive  ministerial 
labours  of  the  Rev.  D.Wilson,  the  present  bishop  of  Cal- 
cutta, and  the  Rev.  C.  Jerram,  until  he  passed  from  all 
worshipping  assemblies  here,  to  join  "  the  general  assem- 
bly and  church  of  the  first-born,  which  are  written  in 
heaven." 

It  should  be  mentioned,  that,  in  the  year  1820,  by  the 
advice  of  several  medical  friends,  and  the  earnest  en- 
treaty of  others,  Mr.  Good  had  entered  upon  the  higher 
department  of  the  profession.  His  diploma,  which  is 
dated  July  10th  of  that  year,  was  from  the  Marischal 
College,  Aberdeen.  In  a  letter  to  the  friend  already 
mentioned,  dated  February,  1821,  after  speaking  of  va- 
rious professional  topics,  he  adds :  "I  have  now  tried 
my  new  fortune  for  nearly  six  months,  and  only  wish  I 


84  MEMOIR    OF 

had  felt  it  prudent  to  have  commenced  earlier ;  for  it 
has  succeeded  beyond  my  best  expectations.  All  my  old 
circle  of  patients  are,  in  turn,  patients  still,  without  a 
single  exception,  so  far  as  I  know ;  and  I  have  added 
very  considerably  to  the  number,  as  well  as  have  to 
reply  to  a  tolerably  extensive  range  of  advice  from  the 
country;  so  that  my  hands  are  pretty  full  still."  From 
the  period  of  Dr.  Good's  assuming  the  practice  of  a  phy- 
sician, he  did  not  cease  to  study,  but  gave  to  his  leading 
literary  occupations  an  appropriate  direction.  At  the 
close  of  the  year  1820,  he  published  his  "  SYSTEM  OF 
NOSOLOGY,"  a  work  which  had,  more  or  less,  occupied 
his  attention,  since  he  first  laid  down  the  plan  of  it  in 
the  year  1808.  No  sooner  was  this  work  issued  from 
the  press,  than  its  indefatigable  author  commenced  a 
still  more  extensive  and  elaborate  performance,  which 
was  published  in  1822,  in  four  large  octavo  volumes, 
entitled,  "THE  STUDY  OF  MEDICINE."  And  in  the 
spring  of  1826,  Dr.  Good  found  time  to  publish  some 
Lectures,  which  he  had,  several  years  before,  delivered 
at  the  Surrey  Institution.  They  are  contained  in  three 
volumes,  entitled  "  THE  BOOK  OF  NATURE."  Other  lite- 
rary pursuits,  which  still  more  engaged  his  heart  and 
affections,  he  carried  on  simultaneously ;  but  the  results 
of  these  he  did  not  live  to  lay  before  the  world. 

During  the  greater  part  of  his  life,  Dr.  Good  had 
enjoyed  excellent  health.     His  constitution,  as  already 


M. D.  85 

intimated,  was  naturally  robust,  and  the  cheerfulness  of 
his  disposition,  and  activity  of  his  habits,  contributed  to 
its  preservation.  But,  about  this  time,  his  friends  began 
to  notice,  with  concern,  that  the  corporeal  vigour  which 
had  carried  him,  almost  unconscious  of  fatigue,  through 
so  much  labor,  was  now  beginning  to  give  way,  and, 
during  the  three  last  months  of  his  life,  his  strength  de- 
clined rapidly.  On  the  arrival  of  Christmas,  1826,  he 
expressed  much  anxiety  to  visit  his  daughter,  Mrs. 
Neale,  and  her  children,  then  residing  at  Shepperton,  in 
Middlesex.  This  journey  he  accomplished ;  but  it  was 
to  enter  the  chamber  of  death.  His  illness — inflamma- 
tion in  the  bladder — was  short,  but  exceedingly  severe. 
From  Sunday,  Dec.  24th,  to  Thursday,  the  28th,  it  was 
found  requisite  to  administer  frequent  doses  of  opium, 
which  produced  occasional  confusion  of  thought — of 
which  he  was  fully  aware  ;  but  this  was  temporary. 
All  the  statements  which  he  gave  of  his  views  and  feel- 
ings, during  his  illness,  were  made  when  entirely  col- 
lected and  self-possessed.  A  very  interesting  account 
of  these  is  contained  in  a  letter  from  a  member  of  his 
family  to  Dr.  Olinthus  Gregory,  of  which  the  following 
is  an  abstract : — 

"  On  the  evening  of  Saturday,  Dec.  30th,  the  Rev. 

W.  Russell,  rector  of  Shepperton,  was  sent  for.     On  his 

entrance,  Dr.  Good  put  out  his  hand,  saying  *  You  are 

the  very  person  whom,  next  to  my  own  family,  I  am 

8 


86  MEMOIR  OF 

most  anxious  to  see.'  Mr.  Russell  replied,  *  I  am  come 
for  the  purpose  of  imploring  the  blessing  of  the  Re- 
deemer upon  you.'  Dr.  Good  then  inquired,  mentioning 
their  names  individually,  if  all  his  family  were  present  ? 
And  each  answering,  he  said,  in  almost  his  usual  tone 
of  voice,  and  with  much  composure  of  manner,  '  I  can- 
not say  I  feel  those  triumphs  which  some  Christians 
have  experienced;  but  I  have  taken  what,  unfortu- 
nately, the  generality  of  Christians  too  much  take — I 
have  taken  the  middle  walk  of  Christianity ;  I  have  en- 
deavoured to  live  up  to  its  duties  and  doctrines,  but  I 
have  lived  below  its  privileges.  I  most  firmly  believe  all 
the  doctrines  of  Scripture,  as  declared  by  our  church. 
I  have  endeavoured  to  take  God  for  my  Father  and  my 
Saviour ;  but  I  want  more  spirituality,  more  humility ; 
I  want  to  be  humbled.'  Here  he  became  much  agitated, 
but  yet  went  on :  '  I  have  resigned  myself  to  the  will  of 
God.  If  I  know  myself,  I  neither  despair  nor  presume : 
but  my  constitution  is  by  nature  sanguine  in  all  things, 
so  that  I  am  afraid  of  trusting  to  myself.'  Some  re- 
marks being  made  about  the  righteousness  of  Christ, 
Dr.  Good  replied,  <  No  man  living  can  be  more  sensible 
than  I  am,  that  there  is  nothing  in  ourselves;  and  of  the 
absolute  necessity  of  relying  only  upon  the  merits  of  Jesus 
CJirist :  I  know  there  is  a  sense  in  which  that  expres- 
sion of  St.  Paul's,  "of  whom  I  am  chief,"  is  applicable 
to  all ;  but  there  are  some  to  whom  it  is  peculiarly  ap- 


JOHN  MASON   GOOD,    M.  D.  87 

propriate,  and  I  fear  I  am  one.  I  have  not  improved 
the  opportunities  given  me ;  I  have  had  large  opportu- 
nities given  me,  and  I  have  not  improved  them  as  I 
might ;  I  have  been  led  astray  by  the  vanity  of  human 
learning,  and  the  love  of  human  applause.'  Mr.  Russell 
asked,  'But  is  there  anything  in  particular  that  you 
wish  me  to  pray  for?'  Dr.  Good  answered,  'No,  I 
have  endeavoured  to  give  you,  not  as  a  matter  of  form, 
but  in  the  sight  of  God,  a  transcript  of  my  feelings.' 
' But,'  repeated  Mr.  R.,  'is  there  nothing  in  particular 
that  you  wish  me  to  pray  for  ?'  The  reply  was,  '  I  want 
to  be  more  humble  under  a  sense  of  sin ;  I  want  more 
spirituality,  more  humility.'  Mr.  Russell  accordingly 
knelt  down  to  pray,  but  after  'this  testimony  to  the  truth 
— this  statement  of  his  feelings,  in  which  all  the  powers 
of  his  soul  and  body  seemed  summoned  up  and  concen- 
trated, nature  was  exhausted. 

"  Sunday,  Dec.  31st,  was  a  day  of  intense  agony 
and  frequent  wanderings  of  mind ;  but,  in  the  intervals 
of  composure,  and  when  not  suffering  from  extreme  ex- 
acerbations of  pain,  some  of  Dr.  G.'s  family  endea- 
voured to  repeat  occasionally  short  texts  of  Scripture,  to 
which  he  always  listened  with  pleasure ;  appearing,  how- 
ever, much  more  struck  with  some  than  with  others. 
On  one  occasion,  without  any  suggestion  or  leading 
remark  from  those  around,  he  was  heard  to  repeat  dis- 
tinctly, with  quivering,  convulsive  lips,  *  All  the  pro- 


88  MEMOIR  OF 

mises  of  God  are  yea  and  amen  in  Christ  Jesus.'  What 
words  for  dying  lips  to  rest  upon  !  At  another  time,  as 
one  of  his  family  was  sitting  by,  he  uttered  some  expres- 
sion, not  accurately  remembered,  of  deep  sorrow  for  sin. 
This  text  was  then  mentioned :  *  If  we  confess  our  sins, 
he  is  faithful  and  just.' — He  repeated,  *  Faithful — yes, 
nothing  can  be  more  suitable !' 

"Everything  that  medical  skill  could  suggest  was 
attempted  for  Dr.  Good's  relief,  by  his  friends,  Mr. 
Cooper,  Dr.  Hooper,  and  Mr.  B.  Travers,  but  in  vain; 
and  on  Monday,  Jan.  1st,  it  was  but  too  evident  that 
life  was  ebbing  fast  away.  He  still  listened  with  mani- 
fest pleasure  to  texts  which  were  repeated  at  intervals 
throughout  the  day,  and  his  quivering  lips  were  conti- 
nually re-uttering  the  words  of  Scripture,  at  times,  when 
intense  agony  occasioned  such  convulsive  motions  that 
the  bed  shook  under  him.  His  youngest  daughter,  who 
was  holding  his  cold  hands,  said  to  him,  '  Do  you  re- 
member your  favourite  hymn,  "  There  is  a  fountain  filled 
with  blood?"  &c.'  He  had  repeated  it  in  the  earlier 
part  of  his  illness,  and  told  Mr.  Russell,  that,  sometimes 
when  walking  through  the  streets  of  London,  he  used  to 
repeat  it  to  himself.  In  one  instance,  he  altered  it  un- 
intentionally, but  still  strictly  preserving  the  sense,  in  a 
manner  which  showed  that  his  mental  powers  were  yet 
vigorous.  Instead  of 


JOHN  MASON   GOOD,   M.  D.  89 

« When  this  poor  lisping,  stammering  tongue 
Lies  silent  in  the  grave, 

He  substituted 

« When  this  decaying,  mouldering  frame 
Lies  crumbling  in  the  dust.' 

And  a  text  on  which  he  dwelt  with  much  earnestness 
and  delight,  was,  *  Jesus  Christ,  the  same  yesterday,  and 
to-day,  and  for  ever ;'  circumstances  which  evinced,  in 
no  slight  degree,  how  totally  changed  were  his  religious 
views  and  feelings  from  those  that  he  formerly  pos- 
sessed. Another  text,  which,  without  any  suggestion  or 
leading  remark,  he  repeated  several  times,  was — '  Who 
art  thou,  0  great  mountain?  before  Zerubbabel  thou 
shalt  become  a  plain ;  and  he  shall  bring  forth  the  head- 
stone thereof  with  shoutings,  crying,  Grace,  grace  unto 
it' — dwelling  with  peculiar  emphasis  upon  the  words, 
'  Grace,  grace  unto  it.'  He  also  listened  with  much  ap- 
parent comfort  to  that  portion  of  the  Te  Deum,  '  When 
thou  hadst  overcome  the  sharpness  of  death,  thou  didst 
open  the  kingdom  of  heaven  to  all  believers/  On  the 
afternoon  of  this  day  he  was  constantly  convulsed,  and 
uttered  but  one  or  two  connected  sentences.  But  his 
power  of  comprehension  appeared  to  last  much  longer 
than  his  power  of  articulation  or  expression.  His  hear- 
ing now  became  greatly  affected.  Mr..  Russell  called  to 
him  with  a  loud  voice,  *  Jesus  Christ  the  Saviour.'  He 
8* 


90  MEMOIR   OF 

was  not  insensible  to  that  sound.  His  valued  clerical 
friend  then  repeated  to  him,  in  the  same  elevated  tone, 
'Behold  the  Lamb  of  God.'  This  roused  him,  and  with 
energy — the  energy  of  a  dying  believer — he  terminated 
the  sentence,  '  which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world ;' 
and  these  were  the  last  words  he  intelligibly  uttered, 
being  about  three  hours  before  his  death,  which  occurred 
Tuesday  morning,  January  2d,  1827,  aged  63  years." 

Dr.  Gregory,  his  biographer,  says,  "Dr.  Good's 
mind  was  deeply  imbued  with  a  devotional  spirit,  which 
he  carried  with  him  through  all  the  transactions  of  life. 
When  prescribing  for  his  patients  he  was  in  the  habit 
of  praying  for  divine  direction;  or  administering  a  me- 
dicine himself,  he  was  often  known  to  utter  a  short  eja- 
culatory  prayer :  and  in  cases  where  a  fatal  issue  was 
inevitable,  he  most  scrupulously  avoided  the  delusion, 
too  common  on  such  occasions, — announcing  his  appre- 
hensions with  the  utmost  delicacy  of  feeling." 

Amongst  Dr.  Good's  papers  was  found  the  following, 
which  we  here  transcribe,  as  evincing  the  spirit  of  prayer 
in  which,  during  the  latter  years  of  his  life,  his  practice 
was  conducted : — 

"  July  27,  1823.  Form  of  prayer,  which  I  purpose 
to  use  among  others,  so  long  as  it  may  please  God  that 
I  shall  continue  in  the  exercise  of  my  profession ;  and 
which  is  here  copied  out,  not  so  much  to  assist  my  own 


JOHN   MASON   GOOD,    M.  D.  91 

memory,  as  to  give  a  hint  to  many  who  may  perhaps 
feel  thankful  for  it  when  I  am  removed  to  a  state  where 
personal  vanity  can  have  no  success,  and  the  opinion  of 
the  world  can  no  longer  be  of  any  importance.  I 
should  wish  it  to  close  the  subsequent  editions  of  my 
6  Study  of  Medicine/ 

"  <  0  thou  great  Bestower  of  health,  strength,  and 
comfort,  grant  thy  blessing  upon  the  professional  duties 
in  which  this  day  I  may  engage.  Give  me  judgment  to 
discern  disease,  and  skill  to  treat  it;  and  crown  with 
thy  favour  the  means  that  may  be  devised  for  recovery ; 
for  with  thine  assistance  the  humblest  instrument  may 
succeed,  as,  without  it,  the  ablest  must  prove  unavailing. 
Save  me  from  all  sordid  motives,  and  endow  me  with  a 
spirit  of  pity  and  liberality  towards  the  poor,  and  of 
tenderness  and  sympathy  towards  all,  that  I  may  enter 
into  the  various  feelings  by  which  they  are  respectively 
tried ;  may  weep  with  those  that  weep,  and  rejoice  with 
those  that  rejoice. 

"  '  And  sanctify  their  souls,  as  well  as  their  bodies. 
Let  faith  and  patience  and  every  Christian  virtue  they 
are  called  upon  to  exercise,  have  their  perfect  work ;  so 
that  in  the  gracious  dealings  of  the  Spirit  and  thy  pro- 
vidence, they  may  find  in  the  end,  whatever  that  may 
be,  that  it  has  been  good  for  them  to  have  been 
afflicted. 


92  MEMOIR   OF 

"  *  Grant  this,  0  Heavenly  Father,  for  the  love  of 
that  adorable  Redeemer,  who  while  on  earth  went  about 
doing  good,  and  now  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  in 
heaven.  Amen.' " 


(93) 


"  If  there  is  one  condition  in  life  more  than  another,  (subordinate 
indeed  to  the  sacred  office)  in  which  a  knowledge  of  theology,  natural 
and  revealed,  is  of  personal  and  relative  importance,  in  combination 
with  all  other  qualifications  for  an  efficient  performance  of  duty,  it  is 
that  profession  which  is  appealed  to  and  confided  in  when  the  body  is  racked 
with  pain,  life  Jeopardized,  reason  disturbed,  or  a  bereaved  family  are  look- 
ing for  solace. 

"  Some  even  appear  to  dread  the  inferences  that  may  be  drawn  by 
thoughtless  neighbours,  that  frequent  attendance  in  the  house  appro- 
priated to  divine  worship,  is  incompatible  with  much  professional  occu- 
pation. It  has,  however,  often  been  shown,  that  by  good  management, 
a  medical  man  in  full  practice  can  occupy  his  place  in  the  house  of  Ood, 
twice  on  the  sabbath,  with  considerable  regularity." 

WM.  COOK,  M.D.,  M.R.C.S. 
Ed.  of  Mordant,  $c. 


(94) 


MEMOIR  OF 
JAMES  HOPE,  M.D.,  F.K.S. 

PHYSICIAN  TO  ST.  GEORGE'S  HOSPITAL;  SENIOR  PHYSICIAN  TO  ST. 
MARYLEBONE  INFIRMARY;  PRESIDENT  OF  THE  ROYAL  SOCIETY  OF 
EDINBURGH,  &c. 

DR.  HOPE  was  the  son  of  Thomas  Hope,  Esq.,  of  Pres- 
bery  Hall,  Cheshire.  He  was  born  February  23, 
1801,  and  was  the  tenth  child  of  a  family  of  twelve.  It 
is  remarkable,  that  he  felt  in  early  life,  an  apparently 
almost  invincible  aversion  to  that  profession  in  which,  at 
a  comparatively  early  period,  he  rapidly  obtained  such 
distinction,  and  for  which  his  naturally  close  and  reflect- 
ing intellectual  habits  so  well  qualified  him.  It  was  his 
father's  wish  that  he  should  be  a  merchant ;  his  own  to 
attain  eminence  at  the  bar.  At  length,  after  a  period 
of  much  uncertainty,  he  yielded  to  the  persuasions  of  a 
leading  physician  at  Manchester,  to  make  trial  of  the 
practice  of  physic,  upon  one  condition  only — that  he 
should  be  allowed  to  practise  in  London;  a  wish 

(95) 


96  MEMOIR   OF 

prompted  by  a  secret  consciousness  of  Ms  talents,  and 
by  that  proud  ambition  which,  till  overruled  by  higher 
and  better  principles,  seems  to  have  been  the  master- 
spring  of  his  conduct,  leading  him  to  scorn  success  in 
every  field  except  where  he  should  have  to  compete  with 
talent  of  the  highest  order. 

He  commenced  his  studies  at  Edinburgh,  in  the 
autumn  of  1820.  From  the  extreme  aversion  he  felt  for 
practical  anatomy,  his  first  year  was  one  of  disgust  and 
unhappiness.  Still  he  determined  to  persevere.  Having 
now  made  up  his  mind  that  the  medical  profession  was 
the  sphere  in  which  all  his  ambitious  dreams  were  to  be 
realized,  he  relied  on  the  power  of  habit  to  overcome  his 
disgust.  But  he  dissected  in  gloves  and  with  forceps, 
so  as  never  to  touch  the  body ;  and  so  strongly  rooted 
were  his  feelings,  that  it  took  two  years  to  overcome 
them  in  any  tolerable  degree,  and  they  continued  to 
afiect  him  slightly,  even  six  or  seven  years  afterwards. 
Dr.  Baillie  was  at  that  time  at  the  head  of  the  profes- 
sion in  London,  and  he  was  the  model  which  young  Hope 
proposed  for  his  own  imitation.  He  soon  discovered 
that  that  celebrated  physician  owed  much  of  his  emi- 
nence and  success  to  his  knowledge  of  morbid  anatomy, 
and  therefore  at  once  determined  to  concentrate  all  his 
powers  on  this  most  essential,  though  least  agreeable 
part  of  his  studies,  and  he  speedily  planned  a  work  on 
the  morbid  anatomy  of  the  whole  body,  illustrated  by 


JAMES   HOPE,    M.  D.  97 

engravings.  At  that  time  there  was  no  similar  work  in 
existence.  Before  leaving  Edinburgh,  Dr.  Hope  succes- 
sively filled  the  offices  of  house-surgeon  and  house-phy- 
sician to  the  Infirmary,  and  was  one  of  the  presidents 
of  the  Medical  Society.  The  two  years  he  spent  in  the 
Edinburgh  Infirmary,  he  has  been  often  heard  to  say, 
were  the  most  valuable  of  his  life — he  literally  lived  at 
the  bed-side  of  his  patients,  and  the  sphere  for  observa- 
tion was  nearly  unlimited.  He  graduated  on  the  1st  of 
August,  1825.  At  the  commencement  of  the  following 
year,  Dr.  Hope  went  to  London  for  the  purpose  of  study- 
ing surgery,  for  although  he  restricted  himself  exclu- 
sively to  the  practice  of  medicine,  he  determined  from 
the  first  to  study  the  two  branches  equally,  and  was 
accustomed  to  observe  that  his  knowledge  of  surgery 
was  ever  afterwards  of  the  greatest  use  to  him,  and  that 
it  gave  him  a  confidence  which  he  could  never  otherwise 
have  enjoyed.  He  therefore  proceeded  so  far  as  to  pass 
his  examination  before  the  College  of  Surgeons.  Mr. 
Cline  was  his  only  examiner,  and  he  soon  dismissed  him 
with  the  remark,  "  You  know  your  profession,  Sir ;  we 
need  not  detain  you."  The  next  year  was  spent  at 
Paris,  and  it  proved  to  be  one  of  the  most  laborious  of 
his  life.  A  grand  difficulty  confronted  him  in  the  outset. 
Although  he  had  a  good  knowledge  of  French  and 
Italian,  as  far  as  mere  reading  went,  he  found  it  by  no 

means  so  easy  a  thing  as  he  imagined,  to  profit  by  the 

9 

• 


98  MEMOIR   OF 

lessons  of  professors,  or  to  converse  with  the  natives  of 
the  country.  Of  this  he  soon  met  with  a  humiliating 
proof.  He  went  to  engage  apartments  at  a  private 
hotel,  but  after  a  pantomimic  performance  of  some 
twenty  minutes  between  himself  and  the  landlady,  it  was 
found  that  neither  could,  in  the  slightest  degree,  under- 
stand the  other ;  and  after  laughter  and  reciprocal  bows, 
he  retired  in  despair.  He  now 'determined  to  devote 
twelve  hours  a  day  to  the  mere  practice  of  speaking 
French.  He  engaged  a  master,  and  made  him  go 
through  the  drudgery  of  reading  three  words  at  a  time, 
while  he  mimicked  them  as  closely  as  he  could.  He 
exercised  himself  by  means  of  Wanostrocht's  Grammar 
with  a  key  to  it.  He  went  to  dine  daily  at  a  small  and 
crowded  restaurant,  frequented  by  the  garde-du-corps, 
where  the  company  was  so  densely  packed,  that  he  could 
not  avoid  overhearing  the  conversation  of  two  or  three 
contiguous  tables.  In  this  way  his  ear  got  familiarized 
with  all  the  sounds  of  the  French  language,  and  having 
a  fancy  for  the  rooms  of  the  private  hotel,  to  which  he 
had  originally  gone,  he  again  waited  on  the  landlady. 
On  entering,  he  addressed  her  in  fluent  French, 
explained  his  wishes,  &c.  The  landlady,  meanwhile, 
with  uplifted  arms,  and  an  air  of  utter  amazement, 
exclaimed,  "Viola!  un  miracle!  You  cannot  be  the 
same  gentleman  who  called  here  a  month  ago,  and  could 
not  speak  a  single  word  of  French  !"  "  The  same,  not- 


JAMES   HOPE,    M.D.  99 

withstanding."  The  rooms  were  then  duly  taken,  and 
he  continued  to  occupy  them  during  his  residence  in 
Paris.  He  now  hegan  his  attendance  at  the  hospitals  at 
the  early  hour  of  five  in  the  morning,  visiting  the  most 
important,  but  settling  at  La  Charite*,  where  M.  Chomel 
was  professor  of  clinical  medicine.  Chomel  soon  singled 
out  the  diligent  Englishman,  and  proposed  to  make  him 
one  of  his  clinical  clerks — an  offer  which  was  gladly 
accepted. 

From  his  earliest  childhood  Dr.  Hope  had  manifested 
an  unusual  facility  in  the  use  of  the  pencil  and  the 
brush.  During  his  residence  in  Edinburgh  he  began  to 
carry  into  execution  his  design,  already  alluded  to,  of  a 
work  on  morbid  anatomy  embellished  with  plates,  and 
he  had  now  ample  opportunities  of  prosecuting  such  a 
work.  From  specimens  of  morbid  anatomy,  procured 
from  various  sources,  he  compelled  himself  to  make  three 
or  four  drawings  a  week ;  one  of  the  most  irksome  tasks, 
he  was  accustomed  to  say,  that  he  ever  performed.  His 
repugnance  to  anatomy  was  not  totally  subdued,  and  it 
was  only  by  the  strongest  mental  effort  that  he  was  able 
to  proceed.  Notwithstanding,  he  thus  occupied  himself 
five  hours  daily.  On  the  6th  of  June,  182T,  Dr.  Hope 
quitted  Paris,  and  in  company  with  a  friend,  took  a 
delightful  tour  through  Switzerland  and  Italy,  making 
a  stay  of  three  weeks  at  Venice,  in  the  family  of  the 
late  estimable  British  consul,  Mr.  Money.  His  remarks 


100  MEMOIR   OF 

on  this  family,  in  a  letter  to  an  intimate  friend,  con- 
sidered in  connexion  with  the  subsequent  change  in  his 
religious  views,  is  worthy  of  mention.  "  The  extreme 
kindness  of  this  amiable  and  estimable  family  has  almost 
domesticated  us  with  them.  The  prominent  feature  in 
the  character  of  the  family  is  an  ardent  and  sincere 
piety,  and  it  is  a  most  impressive  lesson  to  see  how 
happy  they  are  under  the  influence  of  such  feelings. 
Whatever  the  world  may  say,  my  dear  George,  it  is  a 
clear  case  to  me  that  the  saints  have  the  laugh  on  their 
side.  If  wishing  would  add  me  to  their  number,  I  would 
get  enrolled  to-morrow." 

Preparatory  to  settling  in  his  profession,  Dr.  Hope 
spent  some  months  in  visiting  his  family  and  friends  in 
England  and  Scotland.  His  father  had  now  nearly 
attained  the  eightieth  year  of  his  age.  A  series  of 
afflictions  had  bowed  down  his  naturally  high  spirit,  and 
been  the  means  of  leading  him  to  seek  "that  peace 
which  the  world  cannot  give."  Having  been  himself 
blessed  through  life  with  excellent  health,  which  he  was 
in  the  habit  of  attributing  to  his  having  "  always  kept 
out  of  the  doctor's  hands,"  it  so  happened  that  he  had 
a  supreme  contempt  of  medicine  and  of  medical  men. 
Being  proud,  however,  of  his  son,  he  hoped  he  would 
prove  an  exception  to  the  general  rule,  and  to  this  end 
did  not  fail  to  recommend  a  book  of  no  ordinary  quack 
receipts,  which  was  received  with  all  deference.  But, 


JAMES    HOPE,    M.D.  101 

what  was  much  better,  he  promised  to  give  him  a  few 
words  of  good  advice.  This  promise  was  often  claimed, 
but  never  fulfilled,  till  the  day  before  his  departure, 
when  the  old  gentleman  invited  him  to  take  a  walk  in 
the  neighbouring  park,  and  suddenly  stopping,  he  de- 
livered himself  to  the  following  effect.  "  Now,  James, 
I  shall  give  you  the  advice  I  promised,  and  if  you  fol- 
low it,  you  will  be  sure  to  succeed  in  your  profession. 
First :  Never  keep  a  patient  ill  longer  than  you  can  pos- 
sibly help.  Secondly :  Never  take  a  fee  to  which  you 
do  not  feel  yourself  to  be  justly  entitled.  And,  thirdly : 
Always  pray  for  your  patients."  A  short  time  before 
his  death,  Dr.  Hope  said  that  these  maxims  had  been 
the  rule  of  his  conduct,  and  that  he  could  testify  to  their 
success. 

Fully  aware  of  what  was  required  to  attain  what  he 
considered  the  sole  object  worthy  of  his  ambition,  to  be 
at  the  head  of  the  profession  in  London,  he  was  now 
resolved  not  to  shrink  from  the  ordeal  through  which  he 
had  to  pass.  He  turned  a  deaf  ear  to  various  solicita- 
tions that  were  made  him  to  settle  in  other  places  where 
he  had  connexions,  determining  either  to  be  nothing  or 
to  be  the  first  physician  in  the  first  metropolis  in  the 
world.  He  lay  under  two  disadvantages,  which  would 
alone  have  been  sufficient  to  deter  any  one  of  less  deter- 
mined energy  than  himself.  He  had  not  taken  his 
degree  at  an  English  university,  and  was,  therefore*  in- 


102  MEMOIR   OF 

eligible  to  a  fellowship  of  the  College  of  Physicians — a 
circumstance  which  was  a  serious  obstacle  to  his  obtain- 
ing those  appointments  to  which  he  aspired ;  and  he  had 
no  private  connexion.  The  sole  advantages  which  he 
possessed  were  his  natural  powers  of  mind  and  his  supe- 
rior education.  To  these  alone  he  could  look,  under 
Providence,  for  success,  but  they  proved  amply  sufficient. 
He  had  formed,  however,  it  appears,  much  too  favour- 
able an  estimate  of  his  profession,  and  believed  that  the 
wealth  which  rewarded  those  who  attained  eminence  in  it, 
was  both  greater  and  more  easily  acquired  than  he  after- 
wards found  it  to  be.  On  arriving  in  London,  Dr.  Hope 
was  led  into  the  belief  that  the  first  twenty  physicians  in 
the  metropolis  divided  about  .£80,000  annually  between 
them,  and  that  a  successful  physician  might  hope  to  be 
established  in  good  practice  in  five  years.  To  be  one  of 
so  large  a  number  as  twenty  seemed  no  difficult  task,  and 
therefore  he  ignorantly  hoped  that,  if  he  succeeded  at  all, 
he  should  be  receiving  ,£4000  per  annum.  But  he  soon 
found  that,  notwithstanding  the  extraordinary  reputation 
which,  in  a  very  short  period,  he  acquired,  his  practice 
made  very  tardy  approaches  indeed  towards  anything 
like  this  amount.  Often  did  he  try  to  discover  wherein 
lay  his  fault  (for  such  he  thought  it  must  be),  until  he 
was  relieved  by  the  observations  of  two  of  the  first  phy- 
sicians in  London.  Dr.  Chambers  told  him  that  it  was 
absolutely  impossible  for  any  man  who  did  not  keep  a 


JAMES   HOPE,    M.D.  103 

carriage  to  find  time  to  obtain  more  than  <£500  per 
annum  at  the  very  most.  Sir  H.  Halford,  while  con- 
gratulating him  on  being  of  the  number  of  the  success- 
ful few  of  his  profession,  told  him  that  if  he  made  .£1000 
per  annum  by  the  time  he  was  forty,  he  might  feel  cer- 
tain of  attaining  the  first  eminence  that  the  profession 
could  offer.  Dr.  Hope's  career  terminated  at  this  age, 
and  he  was  then  receiving  more  than  four  times  as 
much  as  Sir  Henry  had  led  him  to  expect.  But  he 
did  not  consider  himself  as  a  fair  criterion  of  profes- 
sional success,  as  he  was  universally  considered  to 
have  attained  very  early  eminence,  and  his  own  ob- 
servation led  him  to  believe  that  this  opinion  was  not 
unfounded. 

Dr.  Hope  had  long  assigned  to  himself  the  execution 
of  two  works — "  A  Treatise  on  Diseases  of  the  Heart," 
and  that  already  mentioned  on  "  Morbid  Anatomy,  illus- 
trated by  plates ;"  and,  for  the  completion  of  them,  he 
allotted  seven  years.  The  materials  for  the  latter  work 
were  nearly  prepared,  and  the  only  difficulty  he  had  to 
encounter  in  its  publication  was  the  enormous  expense 
of  the  engravings.  But  the  subject  of  "  Diseases  of  the 
Heart"  was  not  then  very  well  understood.  He  intended 
to  introduce  a  good  deal  of  original  matter ;  and  although 
he  had  bestowed  much  thought  upon  it,  from  the  period 
of  his  medical  studies  at  Edinburgh,  there  were  many 
points  on  which  his  judgment  was  not  fully  formed.  It 


104  MEMOIR  OF 

appeared  essential  that  lie  should  continue  his  studies  at 
some  large  hospital,  and  he  selected  St.  George's  as  the 
one  to  which  his  ambition  prompted  him  to  hope  he 
should  one  day  be  physician.  Here  he  soon  became 
conspicuous  for  his  regular  attendance  and  unvarying 
application.  Never  was  he  to  be  seen  without  his  ste- 
thoscope, his  book  for  taking  notes  of  cases,  and  a  small 
ink  bottle  attached  to  his  button.  At  that  time  there 
was  much  prejudice  in  England,  and  especially  at  St. 
George's,  against  "auscultation"  (the  use  of  the  stetho- 
scope,) in  .the  examination  of  diseases  of  the  chest.  This 
Dr.  Hope  determined  to  remove,  and  he  adopted  the 
most  judicious  course,  that,  namely,  of  leaving  facts  to 
speak  for  themselves.  He  took  the  most  minute  notes 
of  them  all,  wrote  down  the  conclusions  to  which  he  was 
led  in  as  great  detail  as  possible,  and,  before  proceeding 
to  a  post  mortem  examination,  publicly  placed  his  book 
on  the  table  that  it  might  be  read  by  every  one.  He 
was  invariably  correct.  Attention  was  soon  drawn  to 
him.  His  accuracy  silenced  every  objection,  and  all 
intelligent  and  candid  men  became  convinced  of  the 
utility  of  the  stethoscope.  In  connexion  with  this  sub- 
ject, Dr.  Hope  entered  upon  a  series  of  experiments 
relative  to  the  various  sounds  of  the  heart  in  a  healthy 
and  morbid  condition,  and  satisfied  himself  upon  so  many 
points  that  had  remained  unexplored,  that  he  now  felt 
justified  in  presenting  his  discoveries  to  the  public.  He 


JAMES   HOPE,   M.D.  105 

accordingly  set  about  his  projected  work,  and  wrote  with 
such  diligence  that  he  completed  it  in  one  year,  though 
it  was  an  octavo  volume  of  about  six  hundred  pages. 
Being  favoured  with  a  good  constitution,  it  had  long 
been  his  custom  to  work,  with  little  intermission,  from 
seven  in  the  morning  till  twelve  at  night.  In  conse- 
quence, his  name  is  to  be  added  to  the  list  of  victims  who 
have  ruined  even  robust  health,  by  over-tasking  their 
powers  of  body  and  mind,  till  they  have  practically 
found,  in  the  emphatic  language  of  one  of  the  most 
learned  and  accomplished  of  the  human  race,  that  "  this 
also  is  vanity."  Once  thoroughly  engaged  in  any  work 
of  interest,  and  not  feeling  at  the  time  any  extraordinary 
fatigue,  he  seemed  not  to  know  where  to  stop.  When 
writing  this  book,  he  frequently  sat  up  half  the  night. 
When  completing  it,  he  often  rose  at  three  in  the  morn- 
ing. On  one  occasion,  he  rose  at  three,  wrote  without 
cessation  till  five  the  following  morning,  then  went  to 
bed,  and  at  nine  o'clock  Mrs.  Hope,  to  whom  he  had 
been  married  a  few  months  before,  was  at  his  bed-side 
writing  to  his  dictation  while  he  breakfasted.  The  work 
met  with  a  most  favourable  reception.  He  now  directed 
his  attention  to  publishing  the  "  Morbid  Anatomy."  In 
the  course  of  the  summer  of  1832,  he  persuaded  Messrs. 
Whittaker  &  Co.  to  undertake  it  on  terms  which  expe- 
rience had  taught  him  to  consider  advantageous.  These 
were,  that  he  was  to  provide  all  the  drawings  and  litho- 


106  MEMOIR   OF 

graphy,  and  they  were  to  be  at  the  expense  of  the  print- 
ing and  the  colouring  of  the  plates.  After  having  paid 
all  their  own  expenses,  Messrs.  Whittaker  agreed  to 
divide  the  profits  with  him.  After  a  lapse  of  three 
years  Dr.  Hope  received  between  £60  and  «£70  for  his 
share,  a  sum  which  would  not  have  remunerated  him  for 
the  expense  of  the  lithography,  if  he  had  been  compelled 
to  employ  a  regular  artist,  but  much  more  than  was  mu- 
tually anticipated.  No  other  respectable  bookseller 
would  hear  of  the  publication,  except  on  the  stipulation 
of  Dr.  Hope's  making  himself  responsible  for  the  whole 
expense.  This  work  met  with  a  reception  no  less  favour- 
able than  that  on  the  "  Heart." 

The  ruling  principle  in  the  mind  of  Dr.  Hope,  which 
had  led  him  to  use  all  this  diligence  and  unwearying 
perseverance,  to  practise  remarkable  self-denial,  and  to 
control  his  natural  tastes  and  feelings,  was,  as  already 
hinted,  what,  in  the  phraseology  of  the  world,  would  be 
called  a  laudable  and  truly  noble  ambition ;  but  no  feel- 
ing, it  has  been  justly  observed,  which  has  self  for  its 
ultimate  object,  or  which  extends  only  to  the  brief  space 
of  this  life,  when  viewed  in  the  light  of  revelation,  can 
be  denominated  either  laudable  or  noble.  It  was  Dr. 
Hope's  happiness  that  this  principle  was,  at  first,  almost 
imperceptibly,  but  gradually  and  certainly  superseded, 
by  a  far  higher  and  better  one.  He  did  not  then  leave 
the  sphere  in  which  Providence  had  placed  him,  but  it 


JAMES   HOPE,   M.D.  107 

henceforth  became  the  first  object  of  his  life  to  glorify 
God  by  the  use  of  every  talent  committed  to  his  charge. 
It  was  in  Paris,  1826-7,  that  he  was  first  led  to  hear 
evangelical  preaching,  being  induced  by  his  friend  Dr. 
Nairne  to  attend  at  the  chapel  of  the  Rev.  Lewis  Way, 
with  whose  sermons  he  was  much  interested.  His  judg- 
ment, now  first  exercised  on  this  subject,  and  aided  by 
the  guidance  of  the  Spirit  of  truth,  made  him  perceive 
that,  if  religion  were  anything,  it  must  be  everything. 
His  progress  was  slow.  He  did  not  say  much  on  the 
subject,  for  with  the  humility  natural  to  him,  he  feared, 
by  his  unworthy  conduct,  to  do  injury  to  the  pure  reli- 
gion which  he  professed.  But  the  result  was  that  religion 
gained  a  steady  ascendency  over  him,  and  his  conduct 
answered  to  the  scriptural  definition  of  the  kingdom  of 
heaven,  in  the  comparison  of  it  to  a  little  leaven  which 
leaveneth  the  whole  lump.  A  few  days  before  his  death, 
when  referring  to  this  early  period,  he  spoke  of  the 
"  craving"  which  he  had  then  felt,  and  which  never  left 
him,  "to  be  permitted  to  be  Christ's  soldier  militant." 
An  observation  which  he  made  to  Mrs.  Hope,  very  soon 
after  their  marriage,  gives  a  clue  to  what  was  his  mode 
of  governing  his  feelings.  Mrs.  Hope  was  speaking  of 
the  difficulty  of  evangelical  religion,  because  she  believed 
that  it  required  the  feelings  to  be  constantly  worked  up 
to  love  God.  "  Do  not  trouble  yourself  about  that  mat- 
ter," answered  he;  "do  not  think  whether  you  love 


108  MEMOIR  OF 

Him  or  not,  but  only  endeavour  to  keep  your  thoughts 
fixed  on  the  individual  and  collective  blessings  which  He 
has  bestowed  on  you,  and  then  you  will  not  be  able  to 
do  otherwise  than  love  Him."  On  Dr.  Hope's  first 
arrival  in  town,  he  had  been  introduced  to  Dr.  Burder, 
the  son  of  the  pious  and  well-known  author  of  "  Village 
Sermons."  A  similarity  in  mind  and  character  drew 
these  two  excellent  men  together,  and  when  they  dis- 
covered in  each  other  a  unison  of  religious  opinion,  these 
feelings  kindled  into  warm  affection.  In  death  they  were 
not  long  divided.  With  reference  to  the  early  period  of 
their  acquaintance,  Dr.  Burder  observes,  "  Some  years 
ago,  before  I  was  aware  of  Dr.  Hope's  religious  princi- 
ples, I  had  sometimes  said  to  Mrs.  Burder,  after  observ- 
ing him  narrowly,  4  Well,  if  Dr.  Hope  is  not  a  pious  man, 
he  is  the  most  perfect  man  without  religion  that  I  ever 
met  with.'  But  the  more  I  knew  of  him,  the  more  anx- 
ious was  I  to  discover  whether  any  principles  short  of 
those  which  teach  repentance  towards  God,  faith  in  our 
Lord  Jesus  Christ,  and  an  unreserved  consecration  of 
heart  and  life  to  His  service,  could  have  yielded  such 
transparency  of  conduct,  such  humanity,  disinterested- 
ness, humility,  guileless  simplicity,  and  undeviating 
integrity,  as  I  observed  in  him.  At  length  I  learned 
that  he  lived  4as  seeing  Him  who  is  invisible.'  "  Some 
very  valuable  letters  from  Dr.  Burder  to  Dr.  Hope,  en- 
titled "  Letters  from  a  Senior  to  a  Junior  Physician  on 


JAMES   HOPE,    M.D.  109 

promoting  the  religious  welfare  of  his  Patients,"  were 
first  published  in  a  periodical  work,  and  have  since  been 
appended  to  the  interesting  memoir  of  Dr.  Hope,  by  his 
widow,  from  which  we  have  drawn  largely  in  the  present 
sketch. 

It  should  be  mentioned  that,  not  very  long  after  Dr. 
Hope  had  settled  in  London,  he  obtained  the  appoint- 
ment of  physician  to  the  Marylebone  Infirmary,  which 
he  retained  till  November,  1834.  In  order  to  lighten 
the  duties  of  the  physicians  of  St.  George's,  it  was  at 
that  time  proposed  to  create  a  new  office,  that  of  assist- 
ant physician,  and,  after  an  arduous  struggle,  Dr.  Hope 
was  elected.  On  this  occasion,  he  gave  a  decided  proof 
of  the  strength  of  his  religious  principles.  After  having 
canvassed  for  several  days  with  little  prospect  of  success, 
a  party  of  very  influential  medical  governors  sent  to 
offer  him  their  support.  The  communication  was  made 
at  ten  o'clock  on  Saturday  night,  these  gentlemen  stipu- 
lating that  he  should  canvass  most  actively  under  their 
guidance,  and  they  proceeded  to  point  out  his  work  for 
the  following  day,  Sunday.  To  observe  the  Sabbath  was 
a  principle  from  which  he  could  not  swerve.  He  pre- 
ferred risking  the  offered  support  to  offending  his  God. 
He  urged  that,  without  the  Divine  blessing,  his  election 
could  not  prosper,  and  that  he -could  not  expect  that 
blessing  while  acting  in  opposition  to  the  Divine  com- 
mands. It  was  in  vain  that  his  new  friends  argued,  en- 
10 


110  MEMOIR   OF 

treated,  and  even  threatened  to  withdraw  their  support. 
Dr.  Hope  was  inflexible,  and  they  finally  yielded  the 
point. 

In  the  year  1839,  Dr.  Chambers  resigned  the  office 
of  physician  to  St.  George's.  Dr.  Hope  had  now  dis- 
charged the  very  laborious  duties  of  assistant  physician 
for  above  four  years.  He  had  likewise  succeeded  Dr. 
Marshall  Hall  as  lecturer  on  the  practice  of  physic  at 
the  Aldersgate-street  school.  Under  the  pressure  of 
these  and  his  other  engagements,  his  health  had  seriously 
given  way.  On  these  accounts,  the  comparatively  easy 
post  of  physician  to  the  hospital  was  one  of  no  small  im- 
portance to  him.  As  already  hinted,  it  had  been  the 
object  of  his  ambition  from  the  first ;  and,  inasmuch  as 
it  was  the  established  custom  at  other  hospitals,  that  the 
assistant  physician  should,  as  a  matter  of  course,  succeed 
to  the  higher  post,  on  the  occurrence  of  a  vacancy,  he 
expected  to  be  appointed  without  any  opposition,  on  this 
first  vacancy  which  had  occurred  since  the  creation  of 
his  present  office.  But  in  this  he  was  disappointed. 
He  found  that  Dr.  Williams  was  a  candidate,  not  for  the 
assistant  physicianship,  to  be  vacated  by  himself,  but  for 
the  office  of  physician ;  and  he  received  a  communication 
from  Dr.  Seymour,  to  the  effect  that  the  medical  com- 
mittee had  come  to  a  resolution  not  to  give  their  col- 
lective support  to  any  candidate  in  particular.  Nothing 
could  exceed  Dr.  Hope's  astonishment  at  this  unexpected 


JAMES   HOPE,   M.D.  11! 

turn  of  affairs.  He  immediately  imagined  that  some 
accusation  was  about  to  be  brought  against  him  before 
the  board  of  governors,  which,  even  if  refuted,  might 
leave  a  stain  upon  his  reputation.  He  saw  that  to  Dr. 
Williams  a  defeat  would  be  merely  the  loss  of  an  elec- 
tion ;  to  himself  he  conceived  it  would  be  the  loss  of 
character,  of  fortune,  and  of  fame — of  all  that  he  had 
worked  so  hard  to  attain.  The  shock  was  too  much  for 
his  already  enfeebled  frame.  He  was  attacked  with  a 
spitting  of  blood,  and  while  his  family  sat  up  through 
the  night,  occupied  with  preparations  for  the  election,  he 
himself  was  obliged  to  go  to  bed.  Every  imaginable 
exertion  was,  however,  made  by  his  friends  and  connex- 
ions, both  in  the  profession  and  out  of  it.  The  students 
crowded  to  his  house,  and  intreated,  if  they  had  not  in- 
fluence to  canvass,  they  might  write,  transcribe,  seal 
letters,  act  as  clerks,  &c.  In  five  days,  three  thousand 
letters  left  the  house,  besides  those  sent  privately  by 
friends.  On  the  26th  of  June,  Dr.  Williams  retired 
from  the  contest,  and  on  the  5th  of  July  Dr.  Hope  was 
elected  without  opposition.  He  reached  the  original 
goal  of  his  ambition.  He  attained  the  post  of  honour 
upon  which,  as  a  Christian  man,  his  mind  had  perhaps 
been  far  too  inordinately  set ;  his  friends  congratulated 
him  at  the  result — but  what  was  the  price  he  had  paid  ? 
it  cost  him  no  less  than  life  !  Well  may  we  repeat  the 
often  iterated  apothegm  of  "the  preacher,"  "This  also 


112  MEMOIR  OF 

was  vanity  and  a  sore  evil."  The  spitting  of  blood  with 
which  he  had  been  attacked,  the  agitation  and  excite- 
ment of  the  ensuing  week,  the  fatigue  of  the  election, 
which  caused  him  to  work  almost  without  cessation  for 
five  days  and  nights,  were  what  he  never  could  recover. 
From  this  time,  he  dated  the  final  breaking  up  of  his 
health,  which  thenceforth  progressively  and  rapidly 
declined. 

It  now  only  remains  to  take  a  glance  at  the  state 
of  Dr.  Hope's  mind  during  the  remaining  months  of 
sickness  and  decay. 

It  was  a  remarkable  circumstance  in  his  moral  his- 
tory, that  it  was  very  much  through  the  instrumentality 
of  his  reasoning  powers  that  his  heart  became  affected 
by  religious  subjects.  He  was  slow  in  forming  a  con- 
clusion on  any  subject,  nor  was  ever  disposed  to  do  so 
till  he  had  fathomed  depths,  and  probably  unravelled 
many  intricacies,  which,  to  a  more  superficial  mind, 
would  have  been  scarcely  apparent.  But,  being  once 
satisfied  of  the  evidence  on  which  any  fact  or  doctrine 
rested,  he  received  it  as  settled  and  acknowledged  truth, 
as  to  which  there  was  no  room  to  doubt.  With  the  same 
calm  and  deliberate  investigation  did  he  examine  every 
religious  doctrine ;  but,  being  satisfied  of  the  evidence 
on  which  it  rested,  it  henceforth  formed  part  of  his  mind, 
and  there,  like  a  "tree  planted  by  the  rivers  of  water," 
it  brought  forth  "  its  fruit  in  due  season."  He  paid  little 


JAMES   HOPE,   M.D.  113 

attention  to  occasional  feelings  of  depression,  which  he 
conceived  to  depend  mainly  on  the  physical  tempera- 
ment, and  was  backward  to  converse  on  the  subject  of 
religious  feelings,  or  what  is  sometimes  termed  "  Chris- 
tian experience."  Simple  faith,  and  unwavering  hope, 
formed  a  striking  part  of  his  religious  character.  He 
knew  that  Christ  died  for  sinners ;  he  acknowledged  that 
he  was  a  sinner;  he  read  the  invitation  to  all  who 
were  willing — he  was  willing — why,  therefore,  should  he 
doubt  ?  This  confidence  in  the  word  of  truth  was  united 
to  the  deepest  sense  of  his  own  unworthiness.  Had  he 
trusted,  in  the  least,  to  himself,  his  unworthiness  might 
have  depressed  him,  but  while  resting  exclusively  on  the 
righteousness  and  atonement  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  on 
promises  to  which  the  -  Divine  power  and  truth  were 
pledged,  no  fear  or  doubt  could  shake  him.  It  cannot, 
therefore,  be  matter  of  surprise,  that,  in  the  prospect  of 
death,  and  its  lingering  approaches,  Dr.  Hope  should 
have  been  greatly  supported.  Calculating  from  his 
medical  experience,  he  concluded  that  he  should  not,  in 
all  probability,  survive  above  nine  months,  after  the  ab- 
scesses in  his  lungs  had  burst ;  and  requested  Mrs.  Hope 
not  to  mention  to  him  the  possibility  of  recovery,  for 
such  conversations  tended  to  unsettle  his  mind,  while  his 
spirits  were  more  cheerful  when  he  took  an  opposite 
view  of  the  subject.  On  his  bed-room  chimney-piece  he 
kept  a  strip  of  paper,  with  which  he  used  to  measure  the 
30* 


114  MEMOIR   OF 

size  of  his  leg ;  and  as  it  diminished  inch  by  inch,  he 
used  to  smile,  and  to  speculate  on  the  probability  of  his 
going  before  or  after  the  time  he  had  first  named. 

His  family  could  find  no  more  appropriate  manner  of 
describing  his  conduct,  throughout  the  last  seven  months 
of  his  life,  than  that  it  resembled  that  of  a  man  who, 
expecting  to  set  off  on  a  journey,  puts  everything  in 
order  before  his  departure,  and  makes  arrangements  to 
supply  his  absence.  His  own  preparations  for  the  jour- 
ney he  was  about  to  take  had  indeed  been  completed 
long  before.  When  in  health,  he  had  frequently  spoken 
of  the  folly  of  deferring  preparation  for  death  to  a  bed 
of  sickness.  Even  supposing,  he  used  to  say,  that  a  man 
could  be  sure  of  having  a  long  illness,  few  have  any  idea 
how  much  illness  disqualifies  the  mind  for  thought,  how 
many  diseases,  even  at  a  early  stage,  take  away  the 
senses,  and  how  very  commonly  a  stupor  precedes  death. 
This  subject  had  long  dwelt  on  his  mind,  and  it  was  his 
intention  to  write  a  book  on  the  different  modes  of  death, 
illustrating  this  religious  view  of  the  matter.  During 
his  illness  he  often  exclaimed,  "  How  could  I  now  pre- 
pare for  death  ?"  And  yet  his  was  a  disease  peculiarly 
fitted  for  such  a  preparation,  and  his  mind  was,  to  the 
last,  so  clear,  that  he,  if  any,  could  have  done  so. 

One  day,  he  met  Dr.  Chambers  in  consultation  at 
the  house  of  a  patient,  and,  having  alluded  to  his  ap- 
proaching death,  Dr.  Chambers  endeavoured  to  >Wr 


I.D.  115 

him  by  saying  that  there  was  no  occasion  to  despond, 
for  that  he  might  do  well  yet.  Dr.  Hope  stopped  him 
with  the  assurance  that  he  needed  not  to  be  thus  cheered, 
for  he  was  well  aware  of  his  condition ;  that,  besides, 
the  nature  of  Dr.  Chambers's  communication  was  not 
pleasing,  for  he  should  be  sorry  to  be  detained  long  from 
his  heavenly  inheritance,  and  to  exchange  its  prospect 
for  the  toils  of  his  profession. 

The  last  time  Dr.  Latham  saw  him,  he  inquired  if  he 
felt  quite  happy.  "Perfectly  so,"  was  Dr.  Hope's  an- 
swer; "I  have  always  been  a  sober  thinking  man,  and 
I  could  not  have  imagined  the  joy  that  I  now  feel.  My 
only  wish  is  to  convey  it  to  the  minds  of  others,  but 
that  is  impossible.  It  is  such  as  I  could  not  have  con- 
ceived possible." 

When  asked  whether  he  found  that  illness  enabled 
him  to  realize  spiritual  things  in  a  greater  degree,  he 
answered,  "  Yes,  when  we  approach  the  invisible  world, 
it  is  astonishing  with  what  intensity  of  feeling* we  desire 
to  be  there."  Adding,  after  an  interval,  "When  we 
consider,  too,  what  we  now  are ;  how  continually  we  sin 
— pollution  is  in  every  thought.  When  we  analyze  our 
motives,  we  see  sin  in  them.  I  did  this  from  such  a 
motive — that,  from  such  another. — Charity  is  given  with 
a  feeling  of  self-complacency.— The  only  way  is  to  bring 
the  burden  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and  tumble  it  down 
there,  saying,  '  Here  I  am.'  It  is  surprising  how  pro- 


116  MEMOIR   OF 

minently  the  promises  come  out."  Were  a  reprieve  given 
me,  I  should  acquiesce  in  the  will  of  God,  but  I  must 
confess  it  would  be  long  before  I  could  rejoice." 

With  all  this  joy  and  peace — this  "  desire  to  depart 
and  to  be  with  Christ" — there  was  no  enthusiasm  or  ex- 
citement visible  in  his  words  and  demeanour.  Nothing, 
it  is  said,  could  have  exceeded  the  sobriety  of  his  mind. 
He  drew  his  hopes  and  conclusions  from  the  Bible  alone. 
Prom  that  source  he  derived  the  sure  and  joyful  belief, 
that,  in  another  world,  his  renewed  faculties  and  purified 
nature  would  enable  him  to  love  God  more  singly,  and 
to  serve  him  more  actively,  than  he  had  hitherto  been 
enabled  to  do,  and  therefore  he  could  not  but  rejoice. 

During  the  early  part  of  the  last  winter  of  his  life, 
1840—41,  Dr.  Hope  still  continued  the  practice  of  his 
profession.  He  saw  patients  at  home  from  ten  o'clock 
till  twelve  or  one.  After  which  he  visited  St.  George's, 
and  drove  about  seeing  patients  till  five  or  six ;  and  pre- 
ferred this  employment  to  the  feverish  restlessness  of  a 
day  spent  at  home.  In  his  carriage,  he  usually  'took 
some  devotional  work,  or  he  selected  some  texts,  which 
furnished  him  with  ample  meditation  during  his  drive. 

Towards  the  end  of  February,  he  listened  to  the 
solicitations  of  Mrs.  Hope  to  retire  altogether  from 
practice,  and,  on  the  30th  of  March,  he  left  town  for 
Hampstead,  with  the  certain  knowledge  that  he  never 
should  return.  Thus  ended  his  professional  life.  Such 


JAMES   HOPE,    M.  D.  117 

was  the  termination  of  all  those  dreams  of  wealth  and 
honour  in  which  he  had  once  so  ardently  indulged. 
What,  then,  was  the  feeling  with  which  he  relinquished 
all  ?  It  is  said,  by  one  who  knew  him  best,  that  the 
only  feeling  of  which  he  was  conscious  was  that  of  un- 
alloyed pleasure.  He  was  going  to  enjoy  repose — im- 
perfect indeed — but  preparatory  to  that  perfect  rest  to 
which  he  was  hastening,  and  for  the  rapid  approach  of 
which  he  earnestly  prayed.  Did  he  not  regret  the  change 
on  account  of  his  only  son  ?  The  only  remark  that  he 
appears  to  have  made  as  to  this,  was  to  the  effect  that 
his  son,  had  he  lived,  would  probably  have  been  inde- 
pendent of  a  profession,  adding,  "  But  I  am  not  sorry 
for  the  change,  for  then  he  would  probably  have  been 
more  a  child  of  the  world  than  I  trust  he  may  now  prove 
to  be."  Yet  this  is  the  same  individual  who,  filled  from 
his  earliest  years  with  bright  visions  of  fame,  and  wealth, 
and  honour,  had  sacrificed  every  consideration  to  gain 
the  treasures  he  now  prizes  so  lightly.  It  is  well  observed 
by  his  biographer,  that  "  the  Christian  alone  can  discover 
the  cause  of  so  extraordinary  a  change.  In  the  book 
of  God  he  finds,  that,  through  the  Divine  agency,  man 
becomes  i  a  new  creature ;  old  things  pass  away,  and  all 
things  become  new.'  Joyfully  did  he  resign  the  blessings 
of  this  world,  because  he  found,  within  his  grasp,  <  richer 
treasures,  surpassing  honours,  purer  joys,  which  shall 
never  fade,  never  cloy,  but  endure  for  ever  and  ever.'  " 


118  MEMOIR  OP 

Mrs.  Hope,  who  was  the  only  witness  of  his  last  few 
days,  wrote  an  account  of  them  for  his  family;  from 
which  we  cannot  refrain  transcribing  a  few  extracts. 

Sunday,  May  9th — "  On  this  subject" — that  deep 
conviction  of  sin  which  alone  can  make  a  sinner  prize 
Christ  as  a  Saviour — "  a  painful  doubt  flashed  across  my 
mind ;  for  though  I  had  frequently  heard  him  insist  on 
the  general  depravity  of  human  nature,  I  could  not 
remember  to  have  heard  him  speak  of  his  own  individual 
sins,  and  lament  them ;  except  on  one  occasion,  when  he 
was  indeed  humbled.  I  explained  how  great  would  be 
my  satisfaction  at  hearing  him  express  his  feelings  on 
the  subject.  He  looked  up  for  one  moment,  and  then 
casting  down  his  eyes  and  his  head,  he  remained  silent 
for  a  few  minutes,  during  which  time  deep,  strong,  and 
painful  emotions  apparently  struggled  in  his  breast.  At 
length,  in  a  voice  scarcely  articulate  from  agitation,  he 
said,  1 1  always  begin  my  prayers  with  the  mention  of 
my  sins,  and  generally  with  tears.  I  always  have  a  deep 
sense  of  my  own  unworthiness.  Even  now  I  find  all 
sorts  of  worldly  thoughts  and  feelings  carrying  me  away 
from  God,  and  polluting  my  mind.  I  cannot  say  what 
a  grief  this  is  to  me ;  and  it  shows  me  more  than  ever, 
that  all  my  righteousness  is  but  a  filthy  rag.  And  when 
I  think,  on  the  one  hand,  of  the  numberless  offences 
which  I  have  committed ;  and,  on  the  other,  remember 
the  blessings  which  I  have  enjoyed,  oh,  it  is  enough  to 


JAMES  HOPE,    M.D.  119 

bow  one  down  to  the  earth !'  These  words  are,  in  them- 
selves, strong  expressions ;  but  the  earnestness  and  deep 
feeling  with  which  they  were  uttered  made  them  doubly 
so.  He  added,  '  I  have  often  taken  a  practical  chapter 
of  the  New  Testament,  and  have  determined  to  act  up  to 
it  during  the  day ;  but  alas  !  I  have  often  forgotten  it 
altogether ;  and  when  I  did  remember  it,  how  miserably 
did  I  fall  short  of  it !  This,  more  than  anything,  showed 
me  the  original  sin  in  my  nature,  and  threw  me  on  the 
promises  of  Christ.  I  found  it  was  useless  to  rest  too 
much  on  details,  but  I  took  fast  hold  upon  the  grand 
leading  truth,  that  Christ  is  an  all-sufficient  sacrifice  for 
sin.  I  think,  also,  that  I  had  a  great  fear  of  God,  but 
I  feared  him  as  one  fears  a  parent.'  On  hearing  him 
speak  so  decidedly,  I  expressed  the  pleasure  that  I 
derived  from  it,  adding,  that  when  I  remembered  how 
fully  he  had  looked  to  Christ,  especially  since  Christmas, 
1839,  and  what  peace  he  had  enjoyed  in  the  anticipa- 
tion of  death,  I  could  not  think  that  Christ  would  have 
allowed  him  to  remain  in  error  on  any  vital  point.  He 
immediately  answered,  '  Long  before  the  time  you  name, 
I  think  I  was  in  the  way  of  salvation,  even  so  long  as 
ten  or  twelve  years  ago.  When  I  attended  Mr.  Howels' 
chapel,  I  learned  the  saving  truths  of  the  gospel ;  and 
although  I  was  a  most  imperfect  creature,  I  believe  I 
might  have  come  within  the  pale  of  salvation,  because  I 
had  then  the  evidence  of  the  Spirit  working  a  change 


120  MEMOIR  OF 

within  me.'  After  some  farther  conversation,  he  added, 
'  I  cannot  express  my  grief  and  humiliation  at  not  having 
been  able  to  keep  my  attention  fixed  at  church.  If  Satan 
had  a  malicious  or  wicked  thought  to  suggest,  he  chose 
that  time.  An  exciting  sermon  might,  indeed,  rouse  my 
attention;  but  the  prayers — oh!  the  prayers.  And 
when  I  think  of  the  blessings  that  I  have  enjoyed,  is  it 
not  enough  to  grind  me  to  the  dust  ?'  He  then  spoke 
with  much  warmth  and  gratitude  of  the  many  blessings 
that  had  been  vouchsafed  to  him. 

"  On  the  evening  before  his  death  he  said,  *  I  will 
not  make  speeches,  but  I  have  two  things  to  say.'  The 
first  was  an  affectionate  farewell  to  myself.  In  reply,  I 
reminded  him  of  the  superior  satisfaction  which  he  pos- 
sessed of  having  promoted  my  happiness,  not  only  in 
this  world,  but  also,  as  I  trusted,  in  the  world  to  come. 
He  answered  meekly,  '  It  was  not  I.'  Here  he  was 
interrupted  by  coughing.  When  he  was  again  quiet,  I 
reminded  him  that  he  had  another  thing  to  say,  and 
begged  him  to  take  the  earliest  opportunity  of  doing  so. 
He  then  added,  '  The  second  is  soon  said.  Christ  is  all 
in  all  to  me,  I  have  no  hope  except  in  him.  He  is,  indeed, 
All  in  all'  I  quoted,  <  Though  I  walk  through  the 
valley  of  the  shadow  of  death, — thy  rod  and  thy  staff 
they  comfort  me.'  He  said,  '  They  do  comfort  me. 
There  is  no  darJcness.  I  see  Jordan,  and  the  heavenly 
Joshua  passing  over  dry-shod.'  Throughout  the  night, 


JAMES  HOPE,   M.D.  121 

when  awake,  lie  was  perfectly  calm  and  collected.  At 
his  request  I  read  the  15th  chapter  of  the  first  Epistle 
to  the  Corinthians,  and,  at  a  later  period,  he  begged  me 
to  repeat  texts,  which  I  did  from  time  to  time.  He 
frequently  asked  whether  I  was  cold  or  tired,  made 
inquiries  as  to  whether  I  was  adequately  clothed,  and 
proved,  in  various  ways,  that  he  retained  his  faculties 
and  his  characteristic  solicitude  for  others.  He  also 
directed  me  what  medicines  to  give  him,  how  to  prepare 
them,  altering  the  quantities,  and  making  medical  obser- 
vations from  time  to  time  on  his  state Day 

beginning  to  dawn,  he  looked  out  of  the  window,  and  I 
remarked,  '  What  a  glorious  day  is  dawning  on  you,  my 
dearest!'  He  assented  with  a  look  of  joy.  I  said, 
'There  will  be  no  sun  and  no  moon  there,  for  the 
Lamb  will  be  the  light  thereof.'  Looking  fixedly  before 
him,  he  murmured,  l  Christ  I  angels  I  beautiful !  mag- 
nificent!  delightful!'  and  then  turning  to  me,  with  a 
look  as  if  re-assuring  me,  '  Indeed,  it  is.'  At  one  time 
he  said,  '  This  suffering  is  little  to  what  Christ  suffered 
on  the  cross.'  I  quoted,  'But  our  light  affliction,'  &c. 
A  few  minutes  after  he  said,  *  I  thank  God !'  and  these 
were  the  last  connected  words  that  he  spoke.  *  *  He 
continued  to  breathe  till  twenty-three  minutes  past  four 
(May  13,  1841),  when  he  slept  in  Jesus." 

11 


(123) 


*      • 


"  In  all  large  bodies  of  men,  many  will  undoubtedly  be  found  who 
entertain  very  erroneous  notions  concerning  religion ;  but  we  utterly 
repudiate  the  assertion,  that  the  Medical  Profession,  more  than  any 
other  body  of  professional  gentlemen,  are  open  to  the  charge  of  infi- 
delity and  scepticism. 

"  MEDICINE,  OF  ALL  PROFESSIONS,  SHOULD  BE  THE  LEAST  SUSPECTED 

OF  LEADING  TO  IMPIETY." 

DR.  JAMES  GREGORY, 

Prof.  Prac.  Med    University  of  Edinburgh. 


(124) 


MEMOIE  OF 
THOMAS  BATEMAN,   M.D. 


DR.  THOMAS  BATEMAN  was  born  at  Whitby,  in 
Yorkshire,  on  the  29th  of  April,  1778,  at  which 
place  he  died  on  the  9th  of  April,  1821.  He  was,  from 
infancy,  of  a  delicate  constitution,  and  being  naturally 
silent  and  reserved,  manifested  but  little  indication  of 
the  talent  and  ability  which  afterwards  distinguished 
him.  When  not  at  school  it  was  a  constant  practice 
with  him  to  sit  on  the  top  of  a  gate  near  the  house,  for 
great  part  of  the  day,  lost  in  thought,  without  seeking 
either  employment  or  amusement ;  so  that  his  father, 
who  was  engaged  in  an  extensive  medical  practice  at 
Whitby,  and  had  little  time  to  spend  with  his  family, 
used  to  lament  continually  to  his  mother,  when  he  saw 
Thomas  upon  "his  old  seat  at  the  gate,"  that  "that  boy 
would  never  be  good  for  anything" — "a  very  common 
prediction,"  it  has  been  remarked  by  Mr.  D'Israeli,  in 
11  *  (125) 


126  MEMOIR  OF 

his  Essay  on  Literary  Characters,  "  of  the  friends  of 
such  men  in  their  childhood,  and  which  is  soon  falsified 
when  they  are  placed  in  situations  favourable  to  the 
development  of  their  particular  talent."  So  it  was  with 
young  Bateman.  In  his  twelfth  year,  he  was  placed  in 
the  school  of  the  Rev.  M.  Mackereth,  at  Thornton,  a 
village  twenty  miles  from  Whitby.  Here,  from  the  first, 
he  distinguished  himself,  and  took  the  lead  in  every 
branch  of  learning,  with  an  ardour  altogether  different 
from  his  former  habits.  He  pursued  his  studies  even  in 
his  hours  of  leasure :  and  almost  his  only  relaxations 
were  music,  drawing,  and  botany.  Astronomy  and 
electricity  were  also  among  his  favourite  pursuits ;  and 
without  having  seen  either  a  planetarium,  or  an  electri- 
cal machine,  and  with  great  disadvantage  as  to  tools  and 
materials,  he  made  both,  as  well  as  an  ^Eolian  harp,  from 
the  descriptions  in  Chambers'  Dictionary,  cutting  out  all 
the  wheels  of  the  former  with  his  penknife.  His  teacher 
used  to  observe  that  his  most  remarkable  faculty  was  a 
sound  and  penetrating  judgment,  that  he  was  not  so 
much  distinguished  by  quickness,  as  by  the  unceasing 
energy  and  vigour  with  which  every  power  of  his  mind 
was  kept  in  full  and  active  employment,  and  brought  to 
bear  at  once  upon  every  object  presented  to  it. 

At  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  lost  his  father.  His  profes- 
sion had  been  already  determined  by  his  own  choice ; 
and,  by  the  advice  of  Dr.  Beckwith,  who  had  commenced 


THOMAS   BATEMAN,   M.  D.  127 

his  career  as  a  physician,  at  Whitby,  but  was  then  in 
practice  at  York,  he  was  taken  home  that  he  might 
acquire  a  knowledge  of  pharmacy,  whilst  he  completed 
his  general  education.  At  nineteen,  he  went  to  London, 
well  furnished  with  the  knowledge,  classical  and  scien- 
tific, proper  to  his  future  profession,  and  trained  to 
habits  of  industry,  observation,  and  research,  which  he 
was  subsequently  enabled  to  direct  to  subjects  of  high 
practical  value.  Being  intended  to  graduate  at  Edin- 
burgh, Mr.  Bateman's  chief  objects,  in  London,  were 
anatomy  and  the  practice  of  physic.  He  entered,  there- 
fore, to  the  lectures  at  Windmill  street,  and  as  physician's 
pupil  at  St.  George's  Hospital,  for  the  winter  of  1797-98. 
Thus  prepared,  he  went  to  Edinburgh  in  the  following 
winter,  where,  after  having  pursued  his  studies  with  the 
greatest  assiduity  and  attention,  he  graduated  in  June, 
1801. 

Dr.  Bateman  was  now  to  enter  upon  a  new  and  impor- 
tant field.  He  settled  in  London  for  practice,  being 
admitted  as  a  licentiate  of  the  College  of  Physicians. 
Here  he  diligently  carried  forward  his  pursuit  of  im- 
provement, under  Dr.  Willan,  whose  high  and  merited 
reputation  had  induced  many  young  physicians  to  enter 
as  his  pupils  at  the  Public  Dispensary.  Dr.  Bateman's 
assiduity  at  that  institution,  led  to  his  being  appointed 
assistant  physician,  under  a  temporary  pressure  of  busi- 
ness, and,  subsequently,  to  his  becoming  the  colleague 
of  Dr.  Willan  and  Mr.  Eearson  in  1804 ;  and  he  was 


128 


MEMOIR   OF 


elected  physician  to  the  Fever  Hospital,  in  the  same 
year.  His  ardour  in  these  offices  was  unabated  by  any 
difficulties  so  long  as  his  health  enabled  him  to  discharge 
their  duties.  Those  of  the  latter  very  important  charity 
were  wholly  committed  to  him,  and  he  sustained  them 
for  many  years  without  any  assistance.  He  soon  like- 
wise became  a  contributor  to  the  diffusion  of  medical 
knowledge  by  his  pen.  His  "Dispensary  Reports"  in 
the  Edinburgh  Medical  and  Surgical  Journal,  first  intro- 
duced him  to  the  notice  of  the  public  as  a  writer,  to  the 
establishment  of  which  periodical  he  gave  efficient  sup- 
port, by  contributing  a  considerable  number  of  very 
valuable  articles.  He  wrote  also  most  of  the  medical 
articles  in  the  Edinburgh  Cyclopaedia,  and  the  medical 
portion  of  the  article  on  "  Imagination"  in  that  work,  as 
well  as  most  of  the  professional  biographies.  But  he 
principally  distinguished  himself  as  an  author,  by  his 
"Synopsis,"  and  his  "Delineations"  of  cutaneous  dis- 
eases. In  these  he  followed  up  the  design  which  Dr. 
Willan  had  commenced.  The  plates  are  in  part  those 
of  Dr.  Willan,  retouched  and  improved  by  the  engraver, 
and  partly  original.  Several  characteristic  representa- 
tions among  them  are  from  Dr.  Bateman's  own  pencil. 
Altogether  they  furnish  a  standard  work  of  most  essen- 
tial importance  in  facilitating  the  acquisition  of  a  dis- 
criminating, or  what  in  technical  language  is  called  a 
diagnostic,  tact  in  these  diseases.  Dr.  Bateman  now 


THOMAS   BATEMAN,  M.  D.  129 

succeeded  Dr.  Willan,  as  the  principal  authority  on  all 
questions  relating  to  affections  of  the  skin.  The  "  Sy- 
nopsis" was  soon  translated  into  the  French,  German, 
and  Italian  languages,  and  was  well  received  throughout 
the  continent  of  Europe,  of  which  Dr.  Bateman  had  the 
gratification  of  receiving  evidence  from  the  highest 
quarter.  The  emperor  of  Russia  was  pleased  to  desire 
that  a  copy  might  be  sent  to  him,  through  the  hands  of 
the  imperial  ambassador  in  London.  And  on  the  com- 
mand being  carefully  fulfilled,  his  majesty  farther  con- 
descended to  convey  to  Dr.  B.  by  the  same  channel,  a 
ring  of  a  hundred  guineas  value,  with  an  intimation  of 
his  pleasure,  that  any  future  works  written  by  Dr. 
Bateman  should  be  transmitted  in  like  manner  to  St. 
Petersburgh. 

But  amidst  his  various  labours,  Dr.  Bateman's  health, 
originally  delicate,  began  to  give  way.  To  derangement 
of  the  digestive  organs,  and  successive  attacks  of  periodic 
headache,  was  superadded  a  gradual  failure  of  the  sight 
of  his  right  eye,  which  was  considered  to  be  of  the 
nature  of  amaurosis,  and  the  vision  of  the  left  eye  was 
to  a  certain  degree  likewise  affected.  It  was  thought 
requisite  to  have  recourse  to  mercury,  which  unhap- 
pily produced  a  most  exhausting  and  distressing  train 
of  symptoms,  the  result  of  "mercurial  erethism,"  of 
which  he  himself  published  an  interesting  sketch  in 
the  ninth  volume  of  the  "  Medico- Chirurgical  Transac- 


130  MEMOIR  OF 

tions."  From  this  time  he  no  longer  enjoyed  good 
health,  and  derived  little  or  no  benefit  from  some  jour- 
neys he  was  induced  to  take  into  the  north.  In  the 
month  of  April,  1817,  he  recommenced  his  attendance 
at  the  Fever  Hospital,  when  scarce  equal  to  the  duties 
he  had  to  perform.  But  an  epidemic  fever  had  then 
appeared  in  London,  and  his  zeal  was  not  to  be  restrained. 
From  that  time,  till  the  beginning  of  the  following  Feb- 
ruary, he  spent  from  an  hour  and  a  half  to  two  hours  and 
a  half,  daily,  in  the  wards  of  that  hospital,  having  under 
his  care,  during  this  period,  nearly  seven  hundred  pa- 
tients. He  was  then  himself  attacked  by  fever,  and, 
after  his  recovery,  never  gained  any  tolerable  degree  of 
strength,  but  went  on  rather  declining  than  improving, 
until  in  June,  1819,  he  was  taken  ill  on  the  road  from 
London  to  Middleton,  in  Durham;  being  again  attacked 
with  alarming  languors,  in  which  he  was  thought  to  be 
dying,  by  himself,  and  by  all  around  him,  and  which 
continually  returned  if  he  attempted  to  make  the  least 
exertion.  Finding  it  impossible  to  proceed  to  Whitby, 
as  he  had  intended,  he  removed  to  a  temporary  habita- 
tion at  Bishop  Burton.  He  now  determined  to  give  up 
his  appointment  to  the  Public  Dispensary;  he  had  al- 
ready resigned  the  office  of  Physician  to  the  Fever  Hos- 
pital, after  having  discharged  it  faithfully  for  fourteen 
years,  and  was,  in  consequence,  appointed  consulting 
physician.  During  the  ensuing  winter  he  gradually  im- 


THOMAS  BATEMAN,   M.D.  131 

proved  in  strength  so  as  to  be  able  to  take  gentle  exer- 
cise on  a  pony  or  in  a  gig  almost  daily :  but  on  the  return 
of  warm  weather,  early  in  April,  he  had  a  severe  attack 
of  languor  after  a  short  ride,  and  ultimately  became  the 
subject  of  a  progressive  affection  of  the  digestive  organs, 
accompanied  with  great  exhaustion  of  strength,  without 
fever  or  any  manifest  structural  disease,  of  the  fatal  ten- 
dency of  which  he  had  himself  the  strongest  impression. 
And  now  we  arrive  at  the  last  eventful  year  of  Dr. 
Bateman's  life :  the  ever  memorable  era  to  him,  of  the 
commencement  and  developement  of  the  most  momentous 
change  which  can  possibly  affect  the  human  mind.  This 
remarkable  event,  and  its  attending  circumstances,  have 
been  so  faithfully  and  so  well  detailed  by  a  near  relative, 
that  we  cannot  do  better  than  relate  them  in  the  writer's 
own  words.  It  may  be  sufficient  only  to  premise,  that 
although  Dr.  Bateman's  moral  character  had  been  unim- 
peachable, and  he  had  always  retained  a  high  sense  of 
"honour,"  and  a  desire  to  avoid  everything  that  the 
world  esteems  discreditable,  he  had  hitherto  not  merely 
remained  an  utter  stranger  to  the  power  of  vital  godli- 
ness, but  had  gradually  become  more  and  more  confirmed 
in  his  leaning  to  the  wretched  doctrine  of  MATERIALISM. 
This  lamentable  tendency,  first  acquired  during  the 
course  of  his  studies  at  Edinburgh,  had  been  unhappily 
increased  by  the  society  of  some  men  of  considerable 
talent,  who  had  espoused  all  its  unphilosophical  and  un- 


132  MEMOIR  OF 

Christian  tenets ;  and,  although  never  able  fully  to  em- 
brace those  opinions  himself,  he  was  sufficiently  influenced 
by  them  to  become  sceptical  respecting  the  truth  of 
Divine  revelation.  Of  course,  he  was  a  stranger  to  the 
hopes,  as  well  as  negligent  of  the  duties  of  Christianity. 
"It  was  on  Sunday,  the  9th  of  April,"  says  the  wri- 
ter just  referred  to,  "  that  he  first  spoke  to  me  on  the 
subject  of  religion.  He  had  passed  the  whole  of  the  day 
in  a  state  of  extraordinary  suffering,  from  languor  and  a 
variety  of  nervous  feelings,  which  he  always  said  it  was 
impossible  to  describe,  further  than  that  they  were  in- 
conceivably painful  and  distressing ;  and  he  went  to  bed 
at  night  with  a  firm  persuasion  that  he  should  never 
again  quit  it ;  and,  in  fact,  he  did  confine  himself  to  it 
for  the  following  three  weeks,  from  the  mere  apprehen- 
sion of  the  consequences  of  exertion.  Religion  was  a 
subject  which,  for  many  reasons,  had  never  been  dis- 
cussed between  us.  Though  the  tenor  of  his  life  had 
made  me  but  too  well  acquainted  with  the  state  of  his 
mind,  he  had  always  avoided  any  declaration  of  his  opi- 
nions, knowing  the  pain  it  would  give  me  to  hear  them. 
He  was  habitually  fond  of  argument,  and  skilled  in  it ; 
and  I  knew  that  I  was  quite  incompetent  to  argue  with 
him.  I  considered,  too,  that  the  habit  of  disputing  in 
favour  of  any  opinion,  only  serves,  in  general,  to  rivet  it 
more  firmly  in  the  mind ;  men  commonly  finding  their 
own  arguments  more  convincing  than  those  of  their  ad- 


THOMAS   BATE&AN,   M.  D.  133 

versaries.  And,  above  all,  I  knew  that  this  was  a  case 
in  which  mere  argument  must  always  be  insufficient, — 
for  it  is  '  with  the  heart  that  man  believeth  unto  right- 
eousness :'  and  in  most,  if  not  all,  cases  of  scepticism, 
the  will  and  the  affections  need  to  be  set  right  even  more 
than  the  understanding ;  and  upon  these,  argument  can 
have  no  .influence.  On  the  evening  of  the  day  I  have 
mentioned,  Dr.  Bateman  had  been  expressing  to  me  his 
conviction  that  he  could  not  live  much  longer,  and  com- 
plaining of  the  dreadful  nervous  sensations  which  conti- 
nually harassed  him ;  and  then  he  added,  *  But  all  these 
sufferings  are  a  just  punishment  for  my  long  scepticism, 
and  neglect  of  God  and  religion.'  This  led  to  a  conver- 
sation, in  the  course  of  which  he  observed,  that  medical 
men  were  very  generally  sceptical ;  and  that  the  mis- 
chief arose  from  what  he  considered  a  natural  tendency 
of  some  of  their  studies  to  lead  to  materialism.  I  re- 
plied, that  the  mischief  appeared  to  me  to  originate 
rather  in  their  neglect  to  examine  into  the  evidences  of 
the  truth  of  the  Bible,  as  an  actual  revelation  from  0-od  ; 
because,  if  a  firm  conviction  of  that  were  once  established, 
the  authority  of  the  Scriptures  must  be  paramount ;  and 
the  tendency  of  all  inferior  studies,  in  opposition  to  their 
declarations,  could  have  no  weight.  He  said  he  believed 
I  was  right,  and  that  he  had,  in  fact,  been  intending  to 
examine  fully  into  the  subject,  when  the  complaint  in 
his  eyes  came  on,  and  shut  him  out  from  reading.  Our 
12 


134  MEMOIR   OF 

conversation  ended  in  his  permitting  me  to  read  to 
him  the  first  of  Scott's  '  Essays  on  the  most  Important 
Subjects  in  Keligion,'  which  treats  of  '  The  Divine  Inspi- 
ration of  the  Scriptures.'  He  listened  with  intense  ear- 
nestness ;  and  when  it  was  concluded,  exclaimed,  '  This 
is  demonstration  !  complete  demonstration  !'  He  then 
asked  me  to  read  to  him  the  account  given  in,  the  New 
Testament  of  the  resurrection  of  our  Saviour ;  which  I 
did  from  all  the  four  evangelists.  I  read  also  many 
other  passages  of  Scripture,  with  some  of  which  he  was 
extremely  struck ;  especially  with  that  declaration,  that 
4  the  natural  man  receiveth  not  the  things  of  the  Spirit 
of  God :  for  they  are  foolishness  unto  him :  neither  can 
he  know  them,  because  they  are  spiritually  discerned.'  1 
Cor.  ii.  14. 

"  For  two  or  three  days,  he  showed  increasing  interest 
in  the  subject  of  religion ;  and  I  read  to  him  continually 
the  Scriptures,  and  other  books  which  seemed  to  me  best 
calculated  to  give  him  the  information  he  thirsted  for. 
When  I  went  into  his  room  a  few  mornings  after,  he 
said,  *  It  is  quite  impossible  to  describe  to  you  the  change 
which  has  taken  place  in  my  mind :  I  feel  as  if  a  new 
world  were  opened  to  me,  and  all  the  interests  and  pur- 
suits of  this  have  faded  into  nothing  in  comparison  with 
it.  They  seem  so  mean,  and  paltry,  and  insignificant, 
that  my  blindness  in  living  so  long  immersed  in  them, 
and  devoted  to  them,  is  quite  inconceivable  and  astonish- 


135 

ing  to  myself.'  He  often  expressed  in  the  strongest 
terms,  and  with  many  tears,  his  deep  repentance,  and 
his  abhorrence  of  himself  for  his  former  sinful  life  and 
rebellion  against  God ;  but  he  seemed  to  have,  from  the 
first,  so  clear  a  view  of  the  all-sufficiency  of  the  Saviour's 
atonement,  and  of  the  Christian  scheme  of  salvation,  as 
freed  him  at  once  from  that  distrust  of  forgiveness  which 
is  so  apt  to  afflict  persons  -at  the  first  sight  of  their  sins, 
and  of  the  purity  and  holiness  of  him  '  with  whom  they 
have  to  do.'  The  self-abasing  views  which  he  entertained 
of  himself,  necessarily  enhanced  his  sense  of  the  pardon- 
ing love  and  mercy  of  God  in  Christ  Jesus,  thus  graciously 
extended  to  him :  and  which  he  felt  so  strongly,  that  he 
was  filled  with  the  liveliest  emotions  of  gratitude  and 
joy,  and  in  this  happy  state  continued  for  several  days. 
"  He  soon,  however,  experienced  an  afflicting  reverse 
of  feeling.  One  evening  I  left  him  to  visit  a  near  rela- 
tive, at  that  time  confined  to  her  room  in  a  precarious 
state  of  health ;  and  his  mother,  who  had  been  in  attend- 
ance upon  her,  took  my  place  at  the  bed-side  of  her  son. 
Dr.  Bateman  told  her,  that  I  had  been  reading  to  him 
various  detached  portions  of  Scripture,  and  that  he  now 
wished  to  hear  the  New  Testament  read  regularly  through 
from  the  beginning.  She  consequently  began  to  read, 
and  had.  proceeded  as  far  as  the  tenth  chapter  of  St. 
Matthew,  when  he  suddenly  exclaimed,  that  he  could 
not  believe  in  the  miracles  of  the  Saviour,  and  that 


136  MEMOIR   OF 

therefore  he  must  perish  for  ever.*  This  suggestion  of 
his  spiritual  enemy  threw  him  into  a  state  of  the  most 
dreadful  anguish,  and  I  was  immediately  sent  for  to  his 
bed-side.  On  my  arrival  he  had  become  a  little  more 
composed,  but  was  still  in  great  agitation ;  and  was  pray- 
ing in  agony  to  be  saved,  and  not  to  be  given  up  to  this 
dreadful  state  of  unbelief.  To  comfort  his  mind,  we 
said  what  we  could  from  Scripture,  and  from  the  expe- 
rience of  other  Christians :  and  he  was  a  little  relieved 
by  hearing  some  passages  from  an  essay  in  the  volume 
before  mentioned,  '  On  the  Warfare  and  Experience  of 
Believers ;'  finding  that  his  was  not,  as  he  had  supposed, 
a  case  of  new  occurrence ;  but  that  the  author  of  that 
work  was  already  acquainted  with  its  symptoms,  and 
augured  favourably  of  them,  as  often  accompanying  the 
progress  of  religion  in  the  soul.  Still  the  idea  that  his 
death  was  fast  approaching,  and  that  there  was  no  hope 
of  his  mind  being  convinced  before  it  arrived,  quite  over- 
whelmed him.  Feeling  ourselves  to  be  very  inadequate 
guides  and  comforters  in  these  afflicting  circumstances, 
we  gladly  adopted  the  suggestion  of  a  friend  that  we 
should  request  a  neighbouring  clergyman  of  piety  and 
judgment  to  visit  him.  Dr.  Bateman  himself  grasped 

*  It  needs  scarcely  be  pointed  out,  how  much  more  properly  this 
might  be  called  temptation  to  unbelief,  than  unbelief  itself.  While  the 
dimculty  of  believing  was  felt,  the  awful  consequences  of  not  believing 
were  fully  admitted ;  that  is,  were  firmly  believed. 


THOMAS   BATEMAN,    M.  D. 

eagerly  at  the  proposal,  and  I  wrote  immediately  to  the 
clergyman  in  question ;  but  he  was  from  home,  and  was 
not  expected  to  return  for  two  or  three  weeks.  A  few 
days  after  this  unwelcome  intelligence,  Dr.  Bateman 
told  me,  he  had  no  doubt  this*disappointment  was  for  his 
good ;  and  that  it  was  better  for  him  to  be  left  to  him- 
self, as  he  did  not  think  anything  could  have  convinced 
him  so  fully  of  the  efficacy  of  prayer,  as  the  sensible 
relief  which  he  experienced  from  it  during  those  conflicts 
of  doubt  and  unbelief  with  which  his  mind  continued  to 
be  harassed.  He  added,  that  he  now  spent  whole  nights 
in  prayer.  He  felt  perfectly  assured  that  these  doubts 
were  the  suggestions  of  the  great  adversary  of  souls,  and 
remarked,  that  they  were  vividly  and  manifestly  darted, 
as  it  were,  into  his  mind,  instead  of  arising  from  his 
own  reflections,  or  resulting  from  any  train  of  reasoning  ; 
and  the  absurdity  of  them,  in  many  instances,  was  so 
obvious,  that  his  judgment  detected  it  at  once,  though  he 
still  had  not  power  to  drive  them  from  the  hold  they  took 
on  his  imagination,  or  to  banish  them,  for  the  time,  from 
his  thoughts. 

"These  paroxysms  of  distress  and  conflict,  which 
sometimes  lasted  many  hours,  he  continued  subject  to 
for  about  a  fortnight :  but  they  gradually  became  less 
long  and  violent,  and  he  experienced  increasingly  great 
relief  from  prayer  during  their  continuance ;  till  at 
length  they  subsided  entirely,  and  left  his  mind  satisfied 

12* 


138  MEMOIR   OF 

on  all  those  points  which  had  before  presented  so  many- 
obstacles  to  his  belief. 

"  About  this  time  he  received  an  unexpected  visit  from 
a  medical  friend,  whose  piety  and  truly  Christian  cha- 
racter distinguish  him  still  more  than  his  eminent  abilities 
and  professional  skill.  This  gentleman,  with  great  diffi- 
culty, succeeded  in  persuading  him  that  he  was  by  no 
means  in  that  state  of  danger  and  debility  which  he  had 
apprehended,  and  that  he  had  the  power  of  taking  exer- 
cise if  he  could  but  exert  sufficient  resolution  to  attempt 
it.  Experiment  convinced  him  that  this  opinion  was  cor- 
rect :  he  was  prevailed  upon  to  leave  his  bed,  and  in  a 
very  few  days,  was  able  to  be  Some  hours  daily  in  the 
open  air,  and  to  take  considerable  exercise ;  and  it  is 
remarkable,  that,  from  this  time,  he  had  ne  return  of 
languor  after  fatigue,  except  in  one  instance.  Thus  was 
he  delivered,  by  the  gracious  providence  of  God,  from 
those  overwhelming  'apprehensions  of  immediate  death 
which  had  been  so  instrumental  in  bringing  him  to 
Christ,  as  soon  as  they  had  effected  that  blessed  purpose. 

"  He  now  rarely  spoke  of  the  state  of  his  mind  and 
feelings ;  for  such  was  the  extreme  reserve  of  his  charac- 
ter, that  it  could  only  be  overcome  by  deep  and  powerful 
emotions;  and  when  no  longer  agitated  by  these,  he 
returned  to  his  natural  habits,  and  was  silent  on  the 
subject  that  mostly  deeply  interested  him.  Still  it  was 
abundantly  evident  that  it  did  interest  him.  The  avidity 


THOMAS   BATEMAN,    M.  D.  139 

with  which  he  listened  to  the  word  of  God — his  eager- 
ness to  attend  public  worship  (which  for  many  years  he 
had  entirely  neglected),  and  the  heartfelt  and  devout 
interest  which  he  obviously  took  in  the  service — his 
enlarged  and  active  benevolence — the  change  which  had 
taken  place  in  his  tastes,  inclinations,  and  pursuits — all 
testified  that  he  was  indeed  brought  out  of  darkness  into 
4 marvellous  light:'  old  things  had  passed  away,  and  all 
things  had  become  new. 

"In  the  course  of  the  summer,  his  health  and 
strength  were  considerably  recruited:  but  towards  the 
close  of  it,  a  little  over-exer'tion  in  walking  brought  on 
an  accession  of  fever,  and  a  great  aggravation  of  all  the 
symptoms  of  his  disorder ;  but  still  he  continued  able  to 
take  a  little  exercise.  While  he  remained  in  the  coun- 
try, he  had  much  leisure,  which  was  devoted  entirely  to 
religious  reading ;  for  every  other  subject  had  now 
become  insipid  and  uninteresting  to  him ;  and  never  did 
the  pursuits  of  science  and  literature  afford  him  such 
vivid  enjoyment  as  he  now  received  from  these  hallowed 
studies.  In  November,  he  removed  to  Whitby  for  the 
winter :  and  his  health  continued  in  much  the  same  state 
till  a  short  time  before  Christmas,  when  a  walk,  rather 
longer  than  usual,  again  produced  increased  fever  and 
debility ;  and  from  that  period  his  strength  and  appetite 
visibly  declined,  while  his  spirit  was  as  visibly  ripening 
for  heaven.  His  faith  and  patience  were  strengthened; 


140  MEMOIR   OF 

his  hope  was  increased ;  his  charity  enlarged :  yet  he  was 
naturally  so  extremely  reserved  in  the  expression  of  his 
feelings,  that  he  rarely  spoke  of  them  till  within  the  last 
month  of  his  life,  when  he  rejoiced  'with  a  joy  unspeak- 
able and  full  of  glory,'  which  bore  down  all  opposition ; 
for  he  experienced  a  happiness  to  which  all  the  accumu- 
lated enjoyments  of  his  whole  previous  life  could  bear  no 
proportion  or  comparison,  even  that '  peace  of  God  which 
passeth  all  understanding,'  and  which  must  be  felt,  or, 
at  least,  witnessed,  in  order  to  form  any  just  conception 
of  its  nature  and  effects.  What  a  striking  example  did 
our  dying  friend  now  exhibit  to  us !  From  his  early 
youth  he  had  devoted  himself  with  delight  and  industry 
to  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  and  the  pursuits  of 
literature  and  science ;  and  he  had  '  had  his  reward'  in 
the  honour  and  reputation  which  his  success  had  pro- 
cured for  him,*— a  reward  which  he  keenly  enjoyed  and 
very  highly  prized.  Those  who  have  known  only  the 
pleasures  which  arise  from  worldly  gratifications,  surely 
ought  to  recollect,  that,  being  confessedly  ignorant  of 
the  spiritual  enjoyments  which  they  despise,  they  cannot 
be  competent  to  decide  upon  their  reality  or  their 
value :  it  belongs  only  to  those  who  have  experienced 
bothy  to  appreciate  either.  And  how  did  Dr.  Bateman 
appreciate  them  ?  In  contrasting,  as  he  frequently  did, 
his  present  happiness  with  all  that  he  had  formerly 
enjoyed  and  catted  happiness,  he  seemed  always  at  a  loss 


THOMAS   BATEMAN,   M.  D.  141 

to  find  words  to  express  how  poor,  and  mean,  and  despi- 
cable, all  earthly  gratifications  appeared  to  him,  when 
compared  with  that  6  joy  and  peace  in  believing,'  which 
now  filled  his  soul :  *  one  particle  of  which,'  he  some- 
times said,  '  ten  thousand  worlds  would  not  tempt  him 
to  part  with.'  And  it  should  be  remembered,  that  this 
was  not  the  evidence  of  a  man  disappointed  in  his 
worldly  pursuits :  he  had  already,  as  before  observed, 
*  had  his  reward'  in  this  world — he  had  experienced  the 
utmost  success  in  the  path  which  he  had  chosen — he  had 
been  keenly  susceptible  to  intellectual  pleasures;  and 
of  these,  as  well  as  of  all  inferior  amusements,  he  had 
enjoyed  more  than  a  common  portion;  but  when  the 
only  object  that  can  satisfy  the  affections,  and  fill  the 
capacities  of  a  rational  and  immortal  being,  was  revealed 
to  him — when  he  viewed  by  the  eye  of  faith  that  life  and 
immortality  which  are  brought  to  light  by  the  gospel — 
earthly  fame,  and  honour,  and  pleasure,  sank  into  the 
dust ;  and,  in  reflecting  upon  his  past  life,  the  only  thing 
that  gave  him  any  satisfaction  was  the  hope  that  his 
labours  might  have  been  beneficial  to  his  fellow-creatures, 
for  whom  his  charity  had  now  become  unbounded.  He 
often  said,  that  '  the  blessing  of  his  conversion  was  never 
out  of  his  mind  day  or  night ;  that  it  was  a  theme  of 
perpetual  thanksgiving ;  and  that  he  never  awoke  in  the 
night  without  being  overwhelmed  with  joy  and  gratitude 
in  the  recollection  of  it.'  He  always  spoke  of  his  long 


142  MEMOIE   OF 

bodily  afflictions  with  the  most  devout  thankfulness,  as 
having  been  instrumental  in  bringing  him  to  God ;  and 
considered  his  almost  total  blindness  as  an  especial 
mercy,  because,  by  shutting  out  external  objects,  it  had 
enabled  him  to  devote  his  mind  more  entirely  to  spiritual 
things.  Often,  latterly,  he  expressed  an  ardent  desire  to 
'  depart  and  to  be  with  Christ ;'  but  always  added,  that 
he  was  cheerfully  willing  to  wait  the  Lord's  pleasure, 
certain  that  if  he  were  continued  in  this  world  it  was 
only  for  his  own  good,  and  to  make  him  more  meet  to 
be  a  partaker  '  of  the  inheritance  of  the  saints  in  light.' 
"  He  bore  his  bodily  afflictions  with  the  most  exem- 
plary patience,  and  even  cheerfulness^  and  continually 
expressed  his  thankfulness  that  they  were  not  greater ; 
sometimes  saying,  *  What  a  blessing  it  is  to  be  allowed 
to  slip  gently  and  gradually  out  of  life,  as  I  am  doing !' 
He  would  not  allow  any  one  to  speak  of  his  sufferings, 
always  saying,  'they  did  not  deserve  a  stronger  name 
than  inconveniences/  He  neither  complained  himself, 
nor  would  permit  others  to  complain  for  him.  Once, 
when  the  nurse  who  attended  him  said,  *  Oh,  that  cough ! 
how  troublesome  it  is!'  he  replied,  'Have  a  little 
patience,  nurse :  I  shall  soon  be  in  a  better  world ;  and 
what  a  glorious  change  that  will  be  !'  Indeed,  the  joy 
of  his  mind  seemed  to  have  absorbed  all  sense  of  his 
physical  sufferings.  I  once  remarked  to  him,  that  he 
appeared  to  have  experienced  no  intermission  of  these 


THOMAS   BATEMAN,   M.  D.  143 

joyful  feelings;  and  he  answered,  'For  some  months 
past,  never,  and  never  the  smallest  rising  of  anything 
like  impatience  or  complaint.'  His  mind,  naturally 
active  and  ardent,  retained  all  its  powers  in  full  vigour 
to  the  'last  moment  of  his  life:  and  was  never  once 
clouded  or  debilitated,  even  in  the  most  depressing 
nervous  languors.  Indeed,  after  the  whole  current  of 
his  tastes  and  affections  had  been  turned  into  a  new 
channel,  its  ardour  and  activity  rather  increased  than 
diminished,  from  the  deep  conviction  which  he  felt  of 
the  superiority  of  his  present  views  and  pursuits  to  all 
that  had  hitherto  engrossed  him.  During  the  last  week 
of  his  life,  especially,  the  strength  and  clearness  of  his 
intellect  and  of  his  spiritual  perceptions,  were  very 
remarkable ;  and  on  its  being  one  day  observed  to  him, 
that  as  his  bodily  powers  decayed,  those  of  his  soul 
seemed  to  become  more  vigorous,  he  replied,  '  They  do, 
exactly  in  an  inverse  ratio :  I  have  been  very  sensible 
of  it.' 

"  He  conversed  with  the  greatest  animation  all  the 
day,  and  almost  all  the  night,  preceding  his  death, 
principally  on  the  joys  of  heaven  and  the  glorious 
change  he  was  soon  to  experience ;  often  exclaiming, 
'  What  a  happy  hour  will  the  hour  of  death  be !'  He 
dwelt  much  on  the  description  of  the  new  Jerusalem  in 
the  Revelation  of  St.  John,  and  listened  with  great 
delight  to  several  passages  frc/o  Baxter's  '  Saints'  Rest,' 


144  MEMOIR   OF 

and  to  some  of  Watts's  hymns  on  the  same  subject. 
Once  in  the  night  he  said  to  his  mother,  '  Surely  you 
are  not  in  tears  !  Mine  is  a  case  that  calls  for  rejoicing, 
and  not  for  sorrow.  Only  think  what  it  will  be  to  drop 
this  poor,  frail,  perishing  body,  and  to  go  to  the  glories 
that  are  set  before  me  /'  Not  more  than  an  hour  before 
his  death,  when  he  had  been  expressing  his  faith  and 
hope  in  very  animated  terms,  I  remarked  to  him,  how 
striking  the  uniformity  of  faith  and  of  feeling  expressed 
by  believers  at  every  distance  of  time  and  place,  and 
spoke  of  it  as  an  indisputable  evidence  that  these 
graces  are  wrought  by  *  one  and  the  self-same  Spirit,' 
and  as  a  proof  of  the  truth  of  the  Bible,  the  promises  and 
descriptions  of  which  are  thus  so  strikingly  fulfilled  and 
exemplified.  He  entered  into  the  argument  with  his 
accustomed  energy,  and  assented  to  its  truth  with 
delight.  It  seemed  remarkable,  that  though  he  had, 
during  his  whole  illness,  been  very  sensible  of  his 
increasing  weakness,  and  had  watched  and  marked 
accurately  all  its  gradations,  yet  he  spoke,  in  the  last 
moments  of  his  life>  of  going  down  stairs  as  usual  (he 
had  been  carried  up  and  down  for  several  days),  and 
said,  '  it  could  not  require  more  than  a  very  few  weeks 
now  to  wear  him  out ;'  not  appearing  to  be  at  all  aware 
that  his  end  was  so  very  near,  till  about  half  an  hour 
before  his  death.  Finding  himself  extremely  languid, 
he  took  a  little  milk,  and  desired  that  air  might  be 


THOMAS   BATEMAN,   M.D.  145 

admitted  into  the  room ;  and  on  being  asked  if  he  felt 
relieved  at  all,  said,  '  Very  little :  I  can  hardly  distin- 
guish, indeed,  whether  this  is  a  languor  or  drowsiness 
which  has  come  over  me ;  but  it  is  a  very  agreeable 
feeling.'  Soon  after,  he  said  suddenly,  *I  surely  must 
be  going  now,  my  strength  sinks  so  fast ;'  and  on  my 
making  some  observation  on  the  glorious  prospect  before 
him,  he  added,  '  Oh,  yes  !  1  am  GLAD  to  go,  if  it  be  the 
Lord's  will.'  He  shut  his  eyes,  and  lay  quite  composed, 
and  by-and-by  said, t  What  glory  !  the  angels  are  waiting 
for  me!' — then,  after  another  short  interval  of  quiet, 
added,  '  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  soul!'  and  to  those  who 
were  about  him,  '  Farewell !'  These  were  the  last  words 
he  spoke  :  he  gradually  and  gently  sunk  away,  and,  in 
about  ten  minutes,  breathed  his  last,  calmly  and  without 
a  struggle,  at  nine  in  the  morning  of  the  9th  of  April, 
the  very  day  on  which,  twelve  months  before,  bis  mind 
had  first  been  awakened  to  the  hopes  and  joys  of  the 
ever-blessed  gospel !" 

13 


(147) 


"  I  am  not  surprised  that  men  are  not  thankful  to  me;  but  I  wonder 
that  they  are  not  grateful  to  God  for  the  good  which  He  has  made  me  tha 
instrument  of  conveying  to  my  fellow-creatures." 

JENNER,  a  few  days  before  death. 

"Incomparably  great,  however,  as  was  the  temporal  blessing 
[vaccination]  which  Jenner  was  enabled  to  confer,  he  knew  its  com- 
parative importance;  he  was  well  aware  that  there  was  an  instru- 
mentality in  operation  of  a  higher  order,  because  it  respects  that  im- 
perishable part  of  man's  nature,  concerning  which,  He  who  could 
look  through  the  destinies  of  a  coming  Eternity,  Himself  declared, 
'  What  shall  it  profit  a  man  if  he  shall  gain  the  whole  world  and  lose 
his  own  soul  ?' 

"  Rev.  Eowland  Hill  once  introduced  his  friend  to  a  nobleman  in 
these  terms:  'Allow  me  to  present  my  friend  Dr.  Jenner,  who  has 
been  the  means  of  saving  more  lives  than  any  other  man.'  'Ah!' 
replied  Jenner,  '  would  I,  like  you,  could  say,  souls !' " 

SKETCH  OF  EDWARD  JENNER,  M.  D. 


(148) 


MEMOIE  OF 
JOHN  D,  GODMAN,  M.  D., 

PBOFESSOR  OF  ANATOMY  IN  THE  MEDICAL  COLLEGE  OF  OHIO  ;  ANA- 
TOMICAL LECTURER  AT  PHILADELPHIA  ;  PROFESSOR  OF  ANATOMY  IN 
RUTGERS  MEDICAL  COLLEGE,  NEW  YORK,  &c. 

DR.  GODMAN  was  born  in  the  year  1798,  in  the 
city  of  Annapolis,  state  of  Maryland.  His  mother 
died  before  he  was  a  year  old,  and  his  father  did  not 
survive  long.  On  the  death  of  his  mother  he  was  placed 
under  the  care  of  an  aunt,  then  residing  at  Wilmington, 
in  the  state  of  Delaware : — a  lady  who,  from  the  supe- 
riority of  her  intellect  and  education,  as  well  as  the 
sweetness  of  her  disposition,  and  her  elevated  piety,  was 
eminently  qualified  to  unfold,  impress,  and  direct  the 
youthful  mind.  Under  such  culture  he  received  the 
first  rudiments  of  his  education  and  his  earliest  moral 
impressions. 

At  the  age  of  four  his  aunt  removed  from  Delaware  to 
13*  (149) 


150  MEMOIR   OF 

Chestertown,  upon  the  Eastern  Shore  of  Maryland,  and 
here  she  first  placed  the  interesting  orphan  at  school. 
He  had  already  become  the  idol  of  the  family,  but  now 
he  manifested  such  a  precocity  of  intellect,  such  a  fond- 
ness for  books,  and  an  aptitude  to  learn,  and  withal 
evinced  so  much  sensibility,  frankness,  and  sweetness  of 
disposition,  that  he  gained  the  affection  and  excited  the 
admiration  of  all.  His  reverence  for  truth  was  such, 
even  from  his  infancy,  that  he  was  never  known  to  equi- 
vocate. At  the  age  of  six  his  aunt  died,  and  he  was  left 
without  any  suitable  protector  or  guide,  exposed  to  the 
adversities  of  fortune,  and  the  snares  of  an  unfriendly 
world.  It  appears,  however,  that  the  moral  and  religious 
impressions  which  had  already  been  made  upon  his  mind, 
though  obscured  for  a  time,  were  never  wholly  obliterated. 
During  his  last  illness  he  was  often  heard  to  speak  in 
raptures  of  his  aunt,  and  say,  "  If  I  have  ever  been  led 
to  do  any  good,  it  has  been  through  the  influence  of  her 
example,  instruction,  and  prayers."  His  father  had  lost 
the  greater  part  of  his  estate  before  his  death,  and  that 
which  remained  never  came  into  the  hands  of  his  children. 
Young  Godman,  therefore,  was  early  taught  to  rely  on 
his  own  talents  and  industry.  In  this  situation  he  was 
indented  an  apprentice  to  a  printer  in  the  city  of  Balti- 
timore ;  but  the  occupation  was  not  congenial  to  his 
taste ;  and  after  a  few  years  he  left  the  business  in  dis- 
gust, and  at  the  same  time  entered  as  a  sailor  on  board 


JOHN  D.   GODMAN,   M.  D.  151 

the  flotilla,  which  was  then,  the  fall  of  1814,  stationed 
in  the  Chesapeake  Bay.  At  the  close  of  the  war,  hav- 
ing arrived  at  the  age  of  fifteen,  he  was  permitted  to 
pursue  the  inclination  of  his  own  mind,  and  he  imme- 
diately commenced  the  study  of  medicine.  He  first 
placed  himself  under  the  instruction  of  Dr.  Luckey,  of 
Elizabethtown,  Pennsylvania,  but  soon  removed  to  Bal- 
timore, and  entered  the  office  of  Dr.  Davidge,  at  that 
time  professor  of  anatomy  in  the  University  of  Mary- 
land. Here  he  pursued  his  studies  with  such  diligence  and 
zeal  as  to  furnish,  even  at  that  early  period,  strong  indi- 
cations of  his  future  eminence.  So  indefatigable  was  he 
in  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  that  he  left  no  opportu- 
nity of  advancement  unimproved,  and,  notwithstanding 
the  deficiencies  of  his  preparatory  education,  he  pressed 
forward  with  an  energy  and  perseverance  that  enabled 
him  not  only  to  rival,  but  to  surpass  all  his  fellows. 

As  an  evidence  of  the  distinguished  attainments  he 
had  made,  and  of  the  confidence  reposed  in  his  abilities, 
he  was  called  to  the  chair  of  anatomy  in  the  university 
some  time  before  he  graduated,  to  supply 'the  place  of 
his  preceptor,  who  was  taken  from  the  lectures  in  conse- 
quence of  a  fractured  extremity.  This  situation  he  filled 
for  several  weeks  with  so  much  propriety, — he  lectured 
with  such  enthusiasm  and  eloquence,  his  illustrations 
were  so  clear  and  happy,  as  to  gain  universal  applause ; 


152  MEMOIR   OP 

and  at  the  time  he  was  examined  for  his  degree,  the 
superiority  of  his  mind,  as  well  as  the  extent  and  accu- 
racy of  his  knowledge,  were  so  apparent,  that  he  was 
marked  by  the  professors  of  the  university  as  one  des- 
tined at  some  future  period  to  confer  high  honour  upon 
the  profession.  Upon  this  occasion  a  prize  medal  was 
awarded  him  for  the  best  Latin  thesis. 

After  he  graduated  he  settled  at  New  Holland,  in 
Pennsylvania,  but  soon  left  this  situation,  and  repaired 
to  a  small  village  in  Anne  Arundel  county,  in  his  native 
state,  and  established  himself  as  a  practitioner  of  medi- 
cine. Here  he  entered  on  the  active  duties  of  the  pro- 
fession with  the  same  energy  and  diligence  which  had 
distinguished  him  while  a  pupil,  devoting  all  the  hours 
he  could  spare  to  professional  and  other  studies.  It  was 
at  this  time  that  he  commenced  the  study  of  natural 
history,  a  science  in  which  he  became  so  distinguished  an 
adept,  and  for  which  he  ever  after  evinced  so  strong  a  pas- 
sion. But  the  place  was  too  limited  for  the  exercise  of 
his  powers ;  and  not  finding  those  advantages  which  he 
wished,  for  the  cultivation  of  his  favourite  pursuits,  he 
removed  to  Baltimore,  where  he  could  enjoy  more  ample 
opportunities  for  the  study  of  anatomy,  which  he  justly 
regarded  as  the  foundation  of  medical  science. 

About  this  time  he  formed  a  connexion  by  marriage ; 
an  event  which  contributed  equally  to  his  domestic  hap- 
piness and  literary  advancement.  Soon  after  his  mar- 


JOHN   D.    GODMAN,    M.  D.  153 

riage  he  removed  to  Philadelphia,  but  had  scarcely 
settled  in  that  city  when  he  received  a  pressing  invita- 
tion to  accept  the  professorship  of  anatomy  in  the  Medi- 
cal College  of  Ohio ;  an  institution  then  recently  esta- 
blished. During  his  western  tour  he  encountered 
difficulties  which  would  have  broken  down  a  spirit  less 
energetic  than  his  own ;  but  he  bore  up  under  his^accu- 
mulated  labours  and  privations  with  unshaken  firmness 
and  steady  perseverance.  He,  however,  remained  but 
one  year,  and  returned  to  Philadelphia ; — and  here  com- 
menced that  career  of  research  and  discovery  which  laid 
the  foundation  of  his  future  eminence. 

More  ambitious  of  fame,  and  more  eager  for  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge,  than  the  accumulation  of  wealth, 
Dr.  Godman,  on  settling  in  Philadelphia,  rather  retired 
from  the  field  of  practice,  that  he  might  employ  all  his 
time,  and  exert  all  his  powers,  in  scientific  pursuits.  He 
there  found  himself  at  once  removed  from  the  pitiful 
rivalries  and  jealousies  of  the  profession,  and  placed  in 
a  situation  in  which  he  could  enjoy  the  friendship  without 
alarming  the  fears  of  his  brethren. 

His  main  object  was  to  make  himself  a  thorough  ana- 
tomist, and  to  qualify  himself  for  teaching  the  science. 
To  this  end  he  opened  a  room,  under  the  patronage  of 
the  University  of  Pennsylvania,  for  giving  private  de- 
monstrations ;  and  the  first  winter  he  drew  around  him 
a  class  of  seventy  students.  He  now  found  himself 


154  MEMOIR  OP 

occupying  a  field  which  furnished  ample  scope  for  the 
exertion  of  all  his  powers,  as  well  as  for  the  gratification 
of  his  highest  ambition ;  and  it  was  while  engaged  in  the 
discharge  of  the  duties  of  this  situation,  that  the  founda- 
tion was  laid  of  that  fatal  disease  of  which  he  died ;  for 
so  eager  was  he  to  acquire  knowledge  himself,  as  well  as 
to  impart  it  to  those  around  him,  that  he  would  not  only 
expose  himself  to  the  foul  atmosphere  of  the  dissecting 
room  during  the  whole  day,  but  often  subject  himself  to 
the  severest  toil  for  a  considerable  part  of  the  night ;  and 
the  moments  which  were  spared  from  his  anatomical 
labours,  instead  of  being  spent  in  relaxation,  or  in  exer- 
cise in  the  open  air  for  the  benefit  of  his  health,  were 
employed  in  composing  papers  for  the  medical  journals, 
in  copying  the  results  of  his  anatomical  and  physiological 
investigations,  in  preparing  parts  of  his  natural  history, 
or  in  carrying  on  other  literary  and  scientific  studies.  It 
was  impossible  that  a  constitution,  naturally  delicate, 
could  long  remain  unimpaired  under  such  strenuous  and 
unremitting  exertion. 

After  Dr.  Godman  had  prosecuted  his  anatomical 
studies  in  Philadelphia  for  four  or  five  years,  his  reputa- 
tion as  an  anatomist  became  so  generally  known,  his 
fame  so  widely  extended,  that  the  eyes  of  the  profession 
were  directed  to  him  from  every  part  of  the  country ; 
and  in  1826  he  was  called  to  fill  the  chair  of  anatomy  in 
Rutgers  Medical  College,  established  in  the  city  of  New 


JOHN  D.   GODMAN,   M.  D.  155 

York.  There  could  scarcely  have  been  a  stronger  testi- 
mony of  the  high  estimation  in  which  he  was  held,  or  of 
his  reputation  as  a  teacher  of  anatomy,  than  his  appoint- 
ment to  this  station ;  an  institution  around  which  several 
of  the  most  eminent  professors  of  the  country  had  already 
rallied ;  and  which  was  called  into  existence  under  cir- 
cumstances of  rivalry  that  demanded  the  highest  qualifi- 
cations in  its  instructors.  This  situation,  as  well  as 
every  other  in  which  he  had  been  placed,  he  sustained 
with  a  popularity  almost  unparalleled.  He  never  ex- 
hibited in  public,  but  he  gathered  around  him  an  admir- 
ing audience,  who  hung  with  delight  upon  his  lips.  But 
the  duties  of  the  chair,  together  with  his  other  scientific 
pursuits,  were  too  arduous,  and  the  climate  too  rigorous 
for  a  constitution  already  subdued  by  labour,  and  broken 
by  disease ;  and  before  he  had  completed  his  second 
course  of  lectures,  he  was  compelled  to  retire  from  the 
school,  and  seek  a  residence  in  a  milder  climate.  He 
repaired  with  his  family  to  one  of  the  West  India 
islands,  and  remained  till  the  approach  of  summer,  when 
he  returned  and  settled  in  Germantown.  In  this  place, 
and  in  Philadelphia,  he  spent  the  residue  of  his  life. 

From  the  time  Dr.  Godman  left  New  York  his  dis- 
ease advanced  with  such  a  steady  pace  as  to  leave  but 
little  hope,  either  to  himself  or  his  friends,  of  his  final 
recovery.  He,  however,  continued  almost  to  the  last 
week  of  his  life  to  toil  in  his  literary  and  scientific  em- 


156  MEMOIR  OF 

ployments ;  and  this,  too,  with  all  that  ardour  and  en- 
thusiasm which  distinguished  the  more  youthful  part  of 
his  career.  Not  for  the  acquisition  of  wealth,  for  this 
he  could  not  enjoy ;  not  for  posthumous  fame,  for  this 
he  did  not  desire.  It  was,  as  he  affectingly  tells  us,  for 
the  more  noble  purpose,  the  support  of  his  family,  and 
the  good  of  his  fellow-creatures. 

The  productions  of  Dr.  Godman's  pen,  and  the  fruits 
of  his  labour,  are  too  numerous  to  be  specified.  Among 
them  will  be  found  "Anatomical  Investigations,  com- 
prising a  Description  of  various  Fasciae  of  the  Human 
Body;" — "An  Account  of  some  Irregularities  of  Struc- 
ture and  Morbid  Anatomy;" — "  Contributions  to  Physi- 
ological and  Pathological  Anatomy ;" — "A  System  of 
Natural  History  of  American  Quadrupeds  ;" — "  An 
Edition  of  Bell's  Anatomy,  with  Notes;" — "Rambles 
of  a  Naturalist."  Several  articles  on  natural  history  for 
the  American  Enclyclopsedia,  beside  numerous  papers 
which  have  appeared  in  the  periodical  journals  of  the 
day.  At  one  time  he  was  the  principal  editor  of  the 
"  Philadelphia  Journal  of  the  Medical  and  Physical  Sci- 
ences." Some  time  before  his  death  he  published  a 
volume  of  Addresses  which  he  had  delivered  on  different 
public  occasions.  Most  of  these  admired  productions 
have  been  before  the  public  for  a  considerable  time; 
have  been  received  with  high  approbation,  and  several 
of  them  have  been  republished  in  foreign  countries. 


JOHN  D.    GODMAN,   M.  D.  157 

Those  of  his  works  which  are  purely  medical  have 
been  read  with  great  interest  by  the  profession,  and 
contain  much  new  and  valuable  information.  His  investi 
gations  of  the  fasciae  of  the  human  body,  and  his  de- 
cription  of  the  intricate  part  of  the  animal  structure, 
while  they  disclose  some  important- discoveries  which  he 
made,  exhibit  the  whole  subject  in  a  manner  so  plain  and 
simple  as  to  divest  it  of  its  obscurity,  and  bring  it  to  the 
comprehension  of  the  youngest  student ;  —  a  subject 
which,  till  his  researches  were  made  known,  was  but 
little  understood  even  by  the  best  anatomists.  His  con- 
tributions also  to  physiological  and  pathological  anatomy, 
though  but  the  scattered  fragments  of  a  great  work 
which  he  had  designed,  contain  discoveries  and  observa- 
tions which  will  be  read  with  the  deepest  interest  by  the 
inquirer  after  truth.  Of  this  jworks  not  immediately 
connected  with  the  profession,  his  Natural  History  of 
American  Quadrupeds  is  the  most  elaborate,  and  is 
published  in  three  volumes.  This  production  will  long 
remain  a  splendid  monument  of  the  genius  and  industry 
of  its  author,  and  be  regarded  as  a  model  of  composition 
for  works  of  this  description.  It  should  have  a  place 
upon  the  table  of  every  family,  and  be  put  into  the  hands 
of  all  the  youths  of  our  country.  Among  the  latest 
productions  of  his  pen  are  his  essays,  entitled  Rambles 
of  a  Naturalist,  which  were  written  in  the  intervals  of 

^  extreme   pain  and  debility.      For  strong,  lively,   and 
14 


158  MEMOIR   OF 

accurate  description,  they  have  scarcely  been  surpassed. 
He  always  came  to  his  subject  as  an  investigator  of  facts, 
— one  who  had  nothing  to  learn,  but  everything  to  dis- 
cover; and,  like  the  celebrated  Buffon,  never  availed 
himself  of  the  labour  of  others  till  he  had  exhausted  his 
own  resources.  It  was  this  spirit  which  enabled  him  to 
disclose  so  many  new  truths,  and  which  gave  to  all  his 
works  the  stamp  of  originality.  The  value  which  he 
placed  on  original  observation,  as  well  as  the  zeal  with 
which  he  sought  information  from  this  source,  may  be 
learned  from  a  single  incident,  "that  in  investigating 
the  habits  of  the  shrew  mole,  he  walked  many  hundred 
miles." 

But  his  published  works  constitute  but  a  part  of  the 
labours  of  his  pen;  and  many  things  which  he  sent 
forth  were  only  fragments  of  a  great  system,  or  the 
commencement  of  future  researches.  He  had  formed  vast 
plans  for  prosecuting  new  investigations  in  various  de- 
partments of  science,  which  he  did  not  live  to  accomplish. 
Though  he  wrote  with  great  rapidity,  and  sometimes 
without  much  care,  yet  all  his  works  bear  the  impress  of 
a  mind  naturally  vigorous,  bold,  and  original,  and  much 
disposed  to  draw  from  its  own  resources ;  and  most  of 
them  are  written  in  a  style  of  great  elegance  and 
beauty. 

Dr.  Godman's  intellectual  character  was  very  extra- 
ordinary. He  possessed  all  the  characteristic  features 


JOHN   D.    GODMAN,    M.  D.  159 

of  a  mind  of  the  highest  order.  Naturally  bold,  ardent, 
and  enterprising,  he  never  stopped  to  calculate  con- 
sequences, so  far  as  they  regarded  himself;  but  rushed 
forward  with  impetuosity  to  perform  whatever  he  un- 
dertook. Great  and  lofty  intellectual  purposes  seemed 
to  be  the  natural  element  in  which  he  lived.  His 
perception  was  quick  and  accurate ;  his  memory  ex- 
ceedingly retentive;  and  he  possessed  an  uncommon 
facility  of  abstracting  his  attention  from  surrounding 
objects,  and  of  concentrating  all  his  powers  upon  the 
subject  of  his  pursuit.  It  was  this  latter  trait  of  mind, 
no  doubt,  which  gave  such  effect  to  all  his  efforts :  while 
he  was  indebted  to  the  power  of  his  memory  for  the 
remarkable  facility  he  possessed  of  acquiring  languages . 
for  although  his  early  education  had  been  exceedingly 
limited,  he  had  acquired  such  a  knowledge  of  the  Latin 
Greek,  French,  German,  Danish,  Spanish,  and  Italian 
languages,  as  to  read  and  translate  them  with  fluency, 
and  to  write  several "  of  them  with  elegance.  His  quick 
and  discriminating  powers  of  observation  naturally 
inclined  him  to  notice  the  habits  and  economy  of  ani- 
i.ials,  and  gave  him  his  taste  for  the  study  of  natural 
history. 

But  the  most  striking  character  of  his  mind  was 
undoubtedly  philosophical  imagination.  It  was  this  trait 
which  conferred  upon  him  such  powers  of  description 
arid  illustration,  and  imparted  freshness  and  splendour 


160  MEMOIR   OF 

to  everything  he  touched.  All  his  conceptions  were 
strong,  clear,  and  original,  and  he  possessed  the  power 
of  holding  before  him  whatever  object  engaged  his  atten- 
tion, till  all  its  parts  and  relations  were  brought  to  view. 
By  those  who  have  listened  to  his  extemporaneous  dis- 
cussions, it  is  said  that,  while  he  was  speaking,  a  thou- 
sand images  seemed  to  cluster  around  the  subject,  and 
that  he  had  just  time  to  select  such  as  imparted  beauty, 
or  furnished  the  happiest  illustration  of  the  object  he 
wished  to  explain.  Yet,  while  he  possessed  all  this 
richness  and  fertility  of  mind,  taste  and  judgment  ever 
controlled  its  operations. 

He  was  a  laborious  and  untiring  student,  and  pos- 
sessed in  a  high  degree  the  requisites  of  all  true  intel- 
lectual greatness, — the  habit  of  patient  investigation, 
long-continued  attention,  and  a  singular  love  of  labour. 
"  How  often,"  says  one  (to  whom  he  unbosomed  the 
secrets  of  his  heart),  uhave  .1  entreated  him,  while 
poring  half  the  night  over  his  books  and  papers,  which 
were  to  yield  him  nothing  but  empty  honour, — how  often 
have  I  begged  him  to  consider  his  health ;  but  his  ambi- 
tion and  thirst  for  knowledge  were  such  that,  having 
commenced  an  investigation,  or  a  language,  no  difficulty 
could  stop  him ;  and  what  he  had  no  time  to  accomplish 
in  the  day  he  would  do  at  night,  instead  of  enjoying  that 
rest  of  which  he  stood  in  so  much  need." 

It  has  been  truly  and  happily  said  by  one  who  knew 


JOHN  D.    GODMAN,    M.  D.  161 

him  intimately,  that  his  eagerness  in  the  pursuit  of 
knowledge  seemed  like  the  impulse  of  gnawing  hunger 
and  an  unquenchable  thirst ;  which  neither  adversity  nor 
disease  could  allay.  Variety  of  occupations  was  the 
only  relaxation  which  he  sought  for  or  desired. 

He  composed  with  rapidity,  but  not  without  a  high 
degree  of  intellectual  excitement,  and  the  most  abstracted 
attention.  Under  such  an  influence  some  of  his  best 
essays  were  sent  to  the  press  as  they  first  came  from  his 
pen,  without  the  smallest  correction. 

Considering  the  defects  of  his  early  education,  his 
acquisitions,  for  his  years,  were  astonishingly  great. 
Indeed,  there  were  but  few  subjects  of  general  literature 
with  which  he  was  not,  more  or  less,  acquainted. 

But  it  was  his  accurate  knowledge  of  anatomy  and 
physiology,  and  his  uncommon  power  of  teaching  these 
branches  of  medicine,  which  gave  him  his  strongest 
claims  to  regard  as  a  man  of  science ;  and  had  his  life 
and  health  been  prolonged  so  as  to  have  directed  the 
whole  energy  of  his  mind  to  the  cultivation  of  this 
department  of  his  profession,  he  would  probably  have 
laid  open  new  sources  of  knowledge,  discovered  new 
laws,  and  reduced  to  order  those  scattered  materials 
already  k.nown ;  and  the  whole  study  might  thus  have 
been  simplified  and  enriched  by  his  labours. 

His  method  of  teaching  anatomy  was  entirely  ana- 
lytical, and  peculiar  in  this  respect, — that  he  performed 
14* 


162  MEMOIR   OP 

all  his  dissections  in  the  presence  of  the  class,  demon- 
strating the  different  parts  of  the  animal  structure  in 
succession,  as  they  were  unfolded  by  the  knife.  But 
this  method,  however  well  suited  to  a  private  class  in  the 
dissecting  room,  causes  too  much  confusion  and  delay  to 
be  practised  with  success  while  lecturing  by  one  less 
dexterous  and  skilful  than  himself. 

Dr.  Godman,  in  his  manners,  was  plain,  simple,  and 
unostentatious ;  yet  he  possessed  that  warmth  and  affa- 
bility which  rendered  him  accessible  to  all,  and  the 
deligUt  of  the  social  circle.  His  feelings  in  everything 
were  ardent  and  decided.  He  was  devotedly  attached 
to  his  friends ; — towards  his  enemies  he  was  impatient, 
and  felt  keenly  their  revilings.  In  his  conversation  he 
was  fluent,  and,  though  unstudied,  was  often  brilliant, 
and  always  full  of  point  and  power. 

He  was  particularly  distinguished  for  simplicity  and 
directness  in  uttering  his  thoughts,  which  always  indi- 
cated to  those  he  addressed  the  absence  of  selfishness 
and  concealment.  No  enigmatical  expressions,  no  innu- 
endoes, were  ever  heard  from  his  lips.  Dark  and  distant 
insinuations  were  his  utter  abhorrence.  In  whatever  he 
said,  and  in  whatever  he  did,  he  put  forth  his  whole  soul. 
He  was  always  cheerful,  and  apparently  happy,  even 
amid  the  deepest  adversity  and  the  keenest  suffering. 

The  following  just  and  elegant  tribute  is  from  the 
pen  of  one  who,  above  most  others,  knew  Dr.  Godman 's 


JOHN   D.   GODMAN,   M.  D.  163 

worth — that  distinguished  scholar  and  gentleman,  Robert 
Walsh,  Esq. : 

"  The  tributes  which  have  been  paid  in  the  news- 
papers to  the  late  Dr.  Godman,  were  especially  due  to 
the  memory  of  a  man  so  variously  gifted  by  nature,  and 
so  nobly  distinguished  by  industry  and  zeal  in  the 
acquisition  and  advancement  of  science.  He  did  not 
enjoy  early  opportunities  of  self-improvement,  but  he 
cultivated  his  talents,  as  he  approached  manhood,  with  a 
degree  of  ardour  and  success  which  supplied  all  deficien- 
cies ;  and  he  finally  became  one  of  the  most  accomplished 
general  scholars  and  linguists,  acute  and  erudite  natu- 
ralists, ready,  pleasing,  and  instructive  lecturers  and 
writers  of  his  country  and  era.  The  principal  subject 
of  his  study  was  anatomy  in  its  main  branches,  in  which 
he  excelled  in  every  respect.  His  attention  was  much 
directed  also  to  physiology,  pathology,  and  natural  his- 
tory, with  an  aptitude  and  efficiency  abundantly  proved 
by  the  merits  of  his  published  works,  which  we  need  not 
enumerate. 

"  We  do  not  now  recollect  to  have  known  any  in- 
dividual who  inspired  us  with  more  respect  for  his  intel- 
lect and  heart  than  Dr.  Godman;  to  whom  knowledge 
and  discovery  appeared  more  abstractly  precious ;  whose 
eye  shed  more  of  the  lustre  of  generous  and  enlightened 
enthusiasm ;  whose  heart  remained  more  vivid  and 
sympathetic  amid  professional  labour  and  responsibility, 


164  MEMOIR   OF 

always  extremely  severe  and  urgent.  Considering  the 
decline  of  his  health,  for  a  long  period,  and  the  pressure 
of  adverse  circumstances,  which  he  too  frequently  expe- 
rienced, he  performed  prodigies  as  a  student,  an  author, 
and  a  teacher ; — he  prosecuted  extensive  and  diversified 
researches  ;  composed  superior  disquisitions  and  reviews, 
and  large  and  valuable  volumes ;  and  in  the  great  num- 
ber of  topics  which  he  handled  simultaneously,  or  in 
immediate  succession,  he  touched  none  without  doing 
himself  credit,  and  producing  some  new  development  of 
light,  or  happy  forms  of  expression. 

"  He  lingered  for  years  under  consumption  of  the 
lungs ;  understood  fully  the  incurableness  of  his  melan- 
choly state ;  spoke  and  acted  with  an  unfeigned  and 
beautiful  resignation ;  toiled  at  his  desk  to  the  last  day 
of  his  thirty-two  years,  still  glowing  with  the  love  of 
science  and  the  domestic  affections. " 

But  there  remains  another  view  of  Dr.  Godman  to 
which  no  allusion  has  been  made:  his  MORAL  AND 
RELIGIOUS  CHARACTER.  No  apology  is  due  for  exhibit- 
ing one  so  admirable,  and  so  worthy  of  imitation,  and 
one  which  proved  his  only  solace  in  sickness,  cheered 
him  as  he  approached  the  valley  of  death,  and  shed 
light  and  immortality  around  his  dying  couch. 

It  had  been  the  misfortune  of  Dr.  Godman,  as  that 
of  many  eminent  members  of  his  profession  before 
him,  to  form  his  philosophical  and  religious  opinions 


JOHN   D.    GODMAN,  M.  D.  v  165 

after  the  model  of  the  French  naturalists  of  the  last  cen- 
tury ;  the  most  distinguished  of  whom  were  deists  and 
atheists ;  and  such  is  man  in  his  natural,  his  fallen  con- 
dition, that  even  while  surrounded  by  the  most  magnifi- 
cent displays  of  divine  power  and  wisdom,  and  with  his 
eyes  directed  to  those  very  objects,  and  his  attention 
arrested  by  those  very  laws  which  proclaim  the  existence 
and  the  presence  of  an  almighty  Power,  that  he  over- 
looks and  passes  by  the  evidences  they  furnish  of  the 
existence  of  a  Deity ;  and  this,  often,  under  the  specious, 
but  delusive  pretext  of  casting  off  the  shackles  of  preju- 
dice and  superstition,  and  of  giving  the  reins  to  free, 
enlightened,  and  philosophical  inquiry.  It  was  the  case 
with  Dr.  Godman ;  for  while  assisted  by  such  lights  as 
these,  and  guided  alone  in  his  investigations  by  perverted 
reason,  he  became,  as  he  tells  us,  an  established  infidel, 
rejecting  revelation,  and  casting  all  the  evidences  of  an 
existing  God  beneath  his  feet. 

It  was  not  till  the  winter  of  1827,  while  engaged  in 
his  course  of  lectures  in  New- York,  that  he  was  arrested 
in  his  career,  and  brought  to  an  experimental  knowledge 
of  the  truth.  At  this  time  an  incident  occurred  which 
led  him  to  a  candid  perusal  of  the  gospel,  as  contained 
in  the  New  Testament.  It  was  a  visit  to  a  deathbed ; 
the  deathbed  of  a  Christian ;  the  deathbed  of  a  student 
of  medicine.  There  he  saw  what  reason  could  not  ex- 
plain, nor  philosophy  fathom.  He  opened  his  Bible, 


166  MEMOIR   OF 

and  the  secret  was  unfolded.  From  this  time  he  became 
a  devoted  student  of  the  Scriptures.  How  far  they 
were  made  the  efficient  cause  of  his  conversion  to  Chris- 
tianity will  best  appear  from  his  own  eloquent  pen. 

The  following  is  an  extract  from  a  letter  he  addressed 
to  a  medical  friend,  Dr.  Judson,  of  Washington  city, 
a  surgeon  in  the  navy  of  the  United  States,  who  was  at 
that  time  in  the  last  stage  of  consumption : — 

«  G-ermantown,  Deo.  25,  1828. 
"  In  relation  to  dying,  my  dear  friend,  you  talk  like  a 
sick  man,  and  just  as  I  used  to  do  when  very  despondent. 
Death  is  a  debt  we  all  owe  to  nature,  and  must  eventually 
ensue  from  a  mere  wearing  out  of  the  machine,  if  not 
from  disease.  The  time  when,  makes  no  difference  in 
the  act  of  dying  to  the  individual ;  for,  after  all,  it  ter- 
minates in  corporeal  insensibility,  let  the  preceding  an- 
guish be  never  so  severe.  Nature  certainly  has  a  strong 
abhorrence  to  this  cessation  of  corporeal  action,  and  all 
animals  have  a  dread  of  death  who  are  conscious  of  its 
approach.  A  part  of  our  dread  of  death  is  purely  phy- 
sical, and  is  avoidable  only  by  a  philosophical  conviction 
of  its  necessity ;  but  the  greater  part  of  our  dread,  and 
the  terrors  with  which  the  avenues  to  the  grave  are  sur- 
rounded, are  from  another,  and  a  more  potent  source. 
'  'Tis  conscience  that  makes  cowards  of  us  all,'  and 
forces  us  by  our  terrors  to  confess  that  we  dread  some- 
thing beyond  physical  dissolution,  and  that  we  are  terri- 


JOHN  D.    GODMAN,   M.  D.  167 

fied,  not  at  merely  ceasing  to  breathe,  but  that  we  have 
not  lived  as  we  ought  to  have  done,  have  not  effected  the 
good  that  was  within  the  compass  of  our  abilities,  and 
neglected  to  exercise  the  talents  we  possessed  to  the 
greatest  advantage.  The  only  remedy  for  this  fear  of 
death  is  to  be  sought  by  approaching  the  Author  of  all 
things  in  the  way  prescribed  by  himself,  and  not  accord- 
ing to  our  own  foolish  imaginations.  Humiliation  of 
pride,  denial  of  self,  subjection  of  evil  tempers  and  dis- 
positions, and  an  entire  submission  to  his  will  for  sup- 
port and  direction,  are  the  best  preparatives  for  such  an 
approach.  A  perusal  of  the  gospel,  in  a  spirit  of  real 
inquiry,  after  a  direction  how  to  act,  will  certainly  teach 
the  way.  In  these  gospels  the  S'aviour  himself  has 
preached  his  own  doctrines,  and  he  who  runs  may  read. 
He  has  prescribed  the  course  ;  he  shows  how  the  approval 
and  mercy  of  Gf-od  may  be  won;  he  shows  how  awfully 
corrupt  is  man's  nature,  and  how  deadly  his  pride  and 
stubbornness  of  heart,  which  cause  him  to  try  every  sub- 
terfuge to  avoid  the  humiliating  confession  of  his  own 
weakness,  ignorance,  and  folly.  But  the  same  blessed 
hand  has  stripped  death  of  all  the  terrors  which  brooded 
around  the  grave,  and  converted  the  gloomy  receptacle  of 
our  mortal  remains  into  the  portal  of  life  and  light.  0 
let  me  die  the  death  of  th&  righteous ;  let  my  last  end 
and  future  state  be  like  his  ! 

"  This  is  all  I  know  on  the  subject.     I  am  no  theo- 


168  MEMOIR   OF 

logian,  and  have  as  great  an  aversion  to  priestcraft  as 
one  can  entertain.  I  was  once  an  infidel,  as  I  told  you 
in  the  West  Indies.  I  became  a  Christian  from  convic- 
tion, produced  by  the  candid  inquiry  recommended  to 
you.  I  know  of  no  other  way  in  which  death  can  be 
stripped  of  its  terrors;  certainly  none  better  can  be 
wished.  Philosophy  is  a  fool,  and  pride  a  madman. 
Many  persons  die  with  what  is  called  manly  firmness ; 
that  is,  having  acted  a  part  all  their  lives  according  to 
their  prideful  creed,  they  must  die  game.  They  put  on 
as  smooth  a  face  as  they  can,  to  impose  on  the  specta- 
tors, and  die  firmly.  But  this  is  all  deception ;  the  true 
state  of  their  minds  at  the  very  time,  nine  times  out  of 
ten,  is  worse  than  the  most  horrible  imaginings  even  of 
hell  itself.  Some  who  have  led  lives  adapted  to  sear 
their  conscience,  and  petrify  all  the  moral  sensibilities, 
die  with  a  kind  of  indifference  similar  to  that  with  which 
a  hardened  convict  submits  to  a  new  infliction  of  dis- 
graceful punishment.  But  the  man  who  dies  as  a  man 
ought  to  die  is  the  humble-minded,  believing  Christian ; 
one  who  has  tasted  and  enjoyed  all  the  blessings  of  cre- 
ation ;  who  has  had  an  enlightened  view  of  the  wisdom 
and  glory  of  his  Creator;  who  has  felt  the  vanity  of 
merely  worldly  pursuits  and  motives,  and  been  permit- 
ted to  know  the  mercies  of»a  blessed  Redeemer  as  he 
approaches  the  narrow  house  appointed  for  all  the 
living. 


JOHN  D.    GODMAN,    M.  D.  169 

"  Physical  death  may  cause  his  senses  to  shrink  and 
fail  at  the  trial ;  but  his  mind,  sustained  by  the  Rock  of 
ages,  is  serene  and  unwavering.  He  relies  not  on  his 
own  righteousness,  for  that  would  be  vain  ;  but  the  arms 
of  mercy  are  beneath  him — the  ministering  spirits  of 
the  Omnipotent  are  around  him.  He  does  not  die  man- 
fully, but  he  rests  in  Jesus ;  he  blesses  his  friends,  he 
casts  his  hope  on  One  all  powerful  to  sustain,  and 
mighty  to  save  ;  then  sleeps  in  peace.  He  is  dead — but 
liveth ;  for  He  who  is  the  resurrection  and  the  life  has 
declared,  *  Whoso  believeth  on  me,  though  he  were 
dead,  yet  shall  he  live.  And  whosoever  liveth,  and  be- 
lieveth in  me,  shall  never  die.' ' 

This  letter,  which  so  truly  contrasts  the  deathbed 
scene  of  the  infidel  with  that  of  the  Christian,  so  beauti- 
fully portrays  the  history  of  the  change  which  had  been 
effected  in  Dr.  Godman's  own  sentiments  and  affec- 
tions, and  so  clearly  points  the  benighted  wanderer  to 
the  true  source  of  life  and  light,  was  not  lost  upon  his 
friend  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  It  described  his  con- 
dition, and  it  reached  his  heart. 

Dr.  Judson,  though  religiously  instructed  when  young, 
having  a  pious  clergyman  for  his  father,  and  another  for 
his  elder  brother,  [Dr.  Judson,  the  distinguished  mission- 
ary to  Burmah,  now  gone  to  his  reward  in  heaven,]  yet 
he  had  long  since  freed  himself  from  what  he  called  the 
prejudices  of  education,  the  shackles  of  priestcraft,  and 
15 


170  MEMOIR   OF 

was  ranging  the  fields  of  infidelity.  He  had  acquired 
wealth  and  reputation ;  was  an  estimable  man  in  all  the 
domestic  relations  of  life,  and  a  highly  respected  mem- 
ber of  his  profession ;  but  the  self-denying  doctrines  of 
the  Saviour  were  too  humbling  to  his  proud  spirit,  and 
he  could  not  submit  to  their  influence.  At  the  time  he 
received  Dr.  Godman's  letter,  however,  he  was  gloomy 
and  despondent ;  looking  forward  with  fearful  forebod- 
ings to  the  period  of  his  dissolution,  which  seemed  not 
far  distant.  He  had  no  confidence  but  that  of  the  scep- 
tic,— no  hope  but  that  of  ceasing  to  be.  Aware  of  the 
fatal  nature  of  the  disease  under  which  he  had  lingered 
for  years,  he  had  long  been  arming  himself  to  meet  the 
king  of  terrors  with  composure,  that  he  might  die  like  a 
philosopher— "  with  manly  firmness:"  but,  as  he  drew 
nearer  to  the  grave,  the  clouds  and  darkness  thickened 
around  him,  and  he  began  to  fear  that  there  might  be 
something  beyond  this  narrow  prison.  He  had  hitherto 
refused  all  religious  intercourse,  but  now  his  infidelity 
began  to  give  way,  and  he  inquired  with  solicitude,  "  Is 
there  such  a  thing  as  the  new  birth,  and  if  so,  in  what 
does  it  consist  ?"  He  was  directed  to  the  gospel  for  the 
answer.  He  at  length  consented  to  make  the  investiga- 
tion recommended  by  Dr.  Godman.  He  took  up  the 
New  Testament,  and  read  it  in  the  spirit  of  candid 
inquiry.  A  conviction  of  the  truth  of  its  doctrines 
fastened  upon  him.  He  now  solicited  the  advice  and 


• 

JOHN   D.    GODMAN,    M.  D.  171 

prayers  of  a  pious  clergyman.  Yet  he  could  not  con- 
sent to  relinquish  the  sentiments  which  he  had  so  long 
cherished  without  the  clearest  proof;  and  he  disputed 
every  inch  of  ground  with  great  acuteness  and  ability  : 
but  the  truth  was  exhibited  by  this  venerable  divine 
[the  Rev.  William  Ryland]  with  such  force  and  simpli- 
city, that  it  overcame  every  argument  he  could-produce, 
and  he  saw  clearly  the  folly  of  his  sceptical  opinions. 
The  clouds  were  dissipated,  light  broke  in  upon  his  mind, 
and  he  was  enabled  to  take  hold  of  the  promises.  The 
remaining  days  of  his  life  were  devoted  to  fervent  prayer, 
and  the  constant  study  of  the  Scriptures,  which  filled 
his  soul  with  divine  composure,  and  enabled  him  to  rely 
with  undoubting  confidence  on  the  infinite  merits  of  his 
Redeemer,  and  with  his  last  breath  to  cry  "Peace, 
peace."  If  he  did  not  die  with  "manly  firmness"  he 
"rested  in  Jesus" 

The  exercises  of  such  a  mind  as  Dr.  Godman's,  dur- 
ing a  long  period  of  affliction,  cannot  fail  to  be  interest- 
ing, as  well  to  the  philosopher  as  to  the  Christian,  and 
more  especially  as  expressed  by  himself.  I  shall,  there- 
fore, present  a  few  brief  extracts  from  some  of  his  cor- 
respondence at  that  period. 

"Philadelphia,  Feb.  17,  1829. 
"  My  Dear  Friend : — Since  my  last  to  you,  my  health 
has  suffered  various  and  most  afflicting  changes.     The 


172  MEMOIR   OF 

unusual  severity  of  the  weather,  and  other  scarcely  per- 
ceptible causes,  induced  an  attack  of  inflammation  in  the 
diseased  lung,  which  in  my  enfeebled  condition  required 
more  of  depletion,  and  reduction  of  diet,  than  could  be 
readily  borne  ;  hemorrhage  ensued  on  the  third  or  fourth 
day,  which  relieved  the  local  affection  considerably,  and 
by  the  aid  of  blistering  frequently,  and  perfect  rest,  I 
gradually  amended.  Still  the  great  suffering  caused  by 
the  mental  and  corporeal  debility  was  beyond  anything 
ever  before  experienced  by  me,  even  after  the  active  con- 
dition of  disease  was  checked.  But  thanks  to  the 
mercies  of  Him  who  is  alone  able  to  save,  the  valley  and 
shadow  of  death  were  stripped  of  their  terrors,  and  the 
descent  to  the  grave  was  smoothed  before  me.  Relying 
on  the  mercies  and  infinite  merits  of  the  Saviour,  had  it 
pleased  God  to  call  me  then,  I  believe  I  should  have  died 
in  a  peaceful,  humble  confidence.  But  I  have  been 
restored  to  a  state  of  comparative  health,  perhaps  nearly 
to  the  condition  in  which  I  was  when  I  wrote  to  Dr.  Jud- 
son ;  and  I  am  again  allowed  to  think  of  the  education 
of  my  children,  and  the  support  of  my  family.  *  * 

"  Believe  me  truly  your  friend, 
"Professor  SEWALL.  J.  D.  GODMAN." 

In  answer  to  a  suggestion  which  was  made  to  him,  of 
the  propriety  of  leaving  behind  him  a  memoir  of  his  life, 
he  says  :  "It  has  long  been  my  intention,  as  my  life  has 


JOHN   D.    GODMAN,    M.  D.  173 

been  a  curious  one,  to  put  a  short  account  of  it  together 
for  the  benefit  of  my  children  and  others." 

It  .appears,  however,  from  some  lines  which  he  wrote 
at  a  later  period  of  his  life,  that  he  never  accomplished 
this  object ;  for  in  a  manuscript  volume  which  he  sent  to 
a  friend,  and  which  he  intended  to  fill  with  original 
pieces  of  his  own  composition,  he  writes  as  follows  : — 

"  Did  I  not  in  all  things  feel  most  thoroughly  con- 
vinced that  the  overruling  of  our-  plans  by  an  all-wise 
Providence  is  always  for  good,  I  might  regret  that  a  part 
of  my  plan  cannot  be  executed.  This  was  to  relate  a 
few  curious  incidents  from  among  the  events  of  my  most 
singularly  guided  life,  which,  in  addition  to  mere  novelty 
or  peculiarity  of  character,  could  not  have  failed  practi- 
cally to  illustrate  the  importance  of  inculcating  correct 
religious  and  moral  principles,  and  imbuing  the  mind 
therewith  from  the  very  earliest  dawn  of  intellect,  from 
the  very  moment  that  the  utter  imbecility  of  infancy 
begins  to  disappear.  May  His  holy  will  be  done,  who 
can  raise  up  abler  advocates  to  support  the  truth  !  This 
is  my  first  attempt  to  write  in  my  Token ; — why  may  it 
not  be  the  last  ?  Oh  !  should  it  be,  believe  me  that  the 
will  of  God  will  be  most  acceptable.  Notwithstanding 
the  life  of  neglect,  sinfulness,  and  perversion  of  heart, 
which  I  so  long  led  before  it  pleased  him  to  dash  all  my 
idols  in  the  dust,  I  feel  an  humble  hope  in  the  boundless 
mercy  of  pur  blessed  Lord  and  Saviour,  who  alone  can 
15* 


174  MEMOIR   OF 

save  the  soul  from  merited  condemnation.  May  it  be  in 
the  power  of  those  who  chance  to  read  these  lines  to  say, 
Into  thy  hands  I  commend  my  spirit,  for  thou  hast  re- 
deemed me,  0  Lord !  thou  God  of  truth." 

On  communicating  to  Dr.  Godman  an  account  of  the 
last  moments  of  his  friend,  Dr.  Judson,  he  responds  in 
the  following  feeling  and  beautiful  manner : — 

•"  G-ermantown,  May  21,  1829. 

"  My  Dear  Friend : — I  feel  very  grateful  for  your 
attention  in  sending  me  an  account  of  our  dear  Judson's 
last  moments.  After  all  his  doubts,  difficulties,  and 
mental  conflicts,  to  know  that  the  Father  of  mercies  was 
pleased  to  open  his  eyes  to  the  truth,  and  shed  abroad 
in  his  heart  the  love  and  salvation  offered  through  the 
Redeemer,  is  to  me  a  source  of  the  purest  gratification, 
and  a  cause  of  the  most  sincere  rejoicing.  The  bare 
possibility  of  my  having  been  even  slightly  instrumental 
in  effecting  the  blessed  change  of  mind  he  experienced, 
excites  in  me  emotions  of  gratitude  to  the  Source  of  all 
good  which  words  cannot  express. 

"  My  health  has  been  in  a  very  poor  condition  since 
my  last  to  you.  My  cough  and  expectoration  have  been 
generally  bad,  and  my  body  is  emaciated  to  a  very  great 
degree.  The  warm  weather  now  appears  to  have  set  in, 
and  possibly  I  may  improve  a  little ;  otherwise  it  will 
not  be  long  before  I  follow  our  lately  departed  friend. 


175 

Let  me  participate  in  the  prayers  you  offer  for  the  sick 
and 'afflicted,  and  may  God  grant  me  strength  to  die  to 
his  honour  and  glory,  in  the  hopes  and  constancy  derived 
from  the  merits  and  atonement  of  the  blessed  Saviour. 
With  my  best  wishes  for  your  health  and  prosperity,  I 
remain  sincerely  yours, 

"Professor  SEWALL.  J.  D,  GODMAN." 

"Philadelphia,  Oct.  6,  1829. 

"My  Dear  Friend: — My  health  is,  as  for  a  con- 
siderable time  past,  in  a  very  tolerable  condition ;  that 
is,  I  can  sit  up  a  great  part  of  the  day  writing  or  read- 
ing without  much  injury.  My  emaciation  is  great,  and, 
though  not  very  rapid,  is  steady ;  so  that  the  change  in 
my  strength  takes  place  almost  imperceptibly.  On  the 
whole,  though  I  suffer  greatly,  compared  with  persons  in 
health,  yet  so  gently  have  the  chastenings  of  the  Lord 
fallen  upon  me,  that  I  am  hourly  called  upon  for  thank- 
fulness and  gratitude  for  his  unfailing  mercies.  Equal 
cause  have  I  had  for  rejoicing  that  I  have  learned  to  put 
my  whole  trust  in  him ;  as  he  has  raised  me  up  help  and 
friends  in  circumstances  which  seemed  to  render  even 
hope  impossible;  and  has  blessed  me  and  mine  with 
peace  and  content  in  the  midst  of  all  afflictions,  trials, 
and  adversity. 

"  Knowing  experimentally  the  value  of  implicit  sub- 
mission of  all  thoughts  and  desires  to  his  most  holy  will, 


176  MEMOIR   OF 

it  is  no  small  source  of  distress  to  me  to  see  how  many 
of  my  most  valued  friends  live  in  the  habitual  neglect 

of  a  happiness  so  pure,  so  attainable,  and  admirable." 
*  *  *  *  *  *  # 

Dr.  Godman's  religious  feelings,  though  ardent,  were 
not  bigoted.  In  him  religion  was  not  that  cold,  selfish, 
and  narrow  principle  which  shuts  out  from  his  confidence 
all  not  of  his  own  faith ;  nor  did  it  consist  in  a  loud  pro- 
fession of  a  particular  doctrine  or  creed.  It  was  the 
religion  of  the  heart,  deep,  sincere,  and  as  comprehen- 
sive as  the  charity  of  heaven ;  embracing  all  the  humble, 
faithful,  and  really  good  of  every  sect  and  denomination 
of  Christians. 

In  the  concluding  part  of  the  above  letter,  after 
speaking  of  the  different  religious  denominations  in 
terms  of  great  liberality  and  candour,  he  says : — 

"  However,  I  find  all  really  religious  persons  to  be 
of  one  mind.  Those  who  have  drunk  at  the  undefiled 
spring  of  truth,  as  set  forth  in  the  New  Testament,  with- 
out obscuration  of  human  creeds  or  tradition,  I  have 
never  found  to  differ  in  any  respect  that  was  of  the 
slightest  importance  ;  and,  therefore,  with  such  persons, 
however  called,  I  can  always  communicate  advantage- 
ously. Sincerely  your  friend, 

"Professor  SEW  ALL.  .    J.  D.  GODMAN." 

His  strong  and  practical  views  of  the  authenticity 


JOHN  D.   GODMAN,   M.  D.  177 

of  Christianity  are  clearly  exhibited  in  the  following 
extract  which  he  wrote  not  long  before  his  death : — 

"  Is  proof  wanting  that  these  gospels  are  true  ?  It 
is  only  necessary  for  an  honest  mind  to  read  them  can- 
didly to  be  convinced.  Every  occurrence  is  stated 
clearly,  simply,  and  unostentatiously.  The  narrations 
are  not  supported  by  asseverations  of  their  truth,  nor 
by  parade  of  witnesses;  the  circumstances  described 
took  place  in  presence  of  vast  multitudes,  and  are  told 
in  that  downright,  unpretending  manner,  which  would 
have  called  forth  innumerable  positive  contradictions  had 
they  been  untrue.  Mysteries  are  stated  without  attempt 
at  explanation,  because  explanation  is  not  necessary  to 
establish  the  existence  of  facts,  however  mysterious. 
Miracles,  also,  attested  by  the  presence  of  vast  numbers, 
are  stated  in  the  plainest  language  of  narration,  in 
which  the  slightest  working  of  imagination  cannot  be 
traced.  This  very  simplicity,  this  unaffected  sincerity, 
and  quiet  affirmation,  have  more  force  than  a  thousand 
witnesses, — more  efficacy  than  volumes  of  ambitious 
effort  to  support  truth  by  dint  of  argumentation. 

"What  motive  could  the  evangelists  have  to  falsify? 
The  Christian  kingdom  is  not  of  this  world,  nor  in  it. 
Christianity  teaches  disregard  of  its  vanities ;  depreci- 
ates its  honours  and  enjoyments,  and  sternly  declares 
that  none  can  be  Christians  but  those  who  escape  from 
its  vices  and  allurements.  There  is  no  call  directed  to 


178  MEMOIR  OF 

ambition, — no  gratification  proposed  to  vanity: — the 
sacrifice  of  self, — the  denial  of  all  the  propensities  which 
relate  to  the  gratification  of  passion  or  pride,  with  the 
most  humble  dependence  upon  God,  are  invariably  taught, 
and  most  solemnly  enjoined,  under  penalty  of  the  most 
awful  consequences  !  Is  it  then  wonderful  that  such  a 
system  should  find  revilers  ?  Is  it  surprising  that  scep- 
tics should  abound,  when  the  slightest  allowance  of  be- 
lief would  force  them  to  condemn  all  their  actions  ?  Or 
is  it  to  be  wondered  at  that  a  purity  of  life  and  conver- 
sation so  repugnant  to  human  passions,  and  a  humility 
so  offensive  to  human  pride,  should  be  opposed,  rejected, 
and  contemned  ?  Such  is  the  true  secret  of  the  opposi- 
tion to  religion, — such  the  cause  inducing  men  who  lead 
unchristian  lives  to  array  the  frailties,  errors,  weakness, 
and  vices  of  individuals,  or  sects,  against  Christianity, 
hoping  to  weaken  or  destroy  the  system  by  rendering 
ridiculous  or  contemptible  those  who  profess  to  be 
governed  by  its  influence,  though  their  conduct  shows 
them  to  be  acting  under  an  opposite  spirit. 

"  What  is  the  mode  in  which  this  most  extraordinary 
doctrine  of  Christianity  is  to  be  diffused  ?  By  force — 
temporal  power — temporal  rewards — earthly  triumphs  ? 
None  of  these.  By  earnest  persuasion — gentle  entreaty 
— brotherly  love — paternal  remonstrance.  The  dread 
resort  of  threatened  punishment  comes  last — exhibited 
in  sorrow,  not  in  anger ;  told  as  a  fearful  truth,  not  de- 


JOHN  D.    GODMAN,   M.  D.  179 

nounced  with  vindictive  exultation ;  while,  to  the  last 
moment,  the  beamy  shield  of  mercy  is  ready  to  be  inter- 
posed for  the  saving  of  the  endangered. 

" Human  doctrines  are  wavering  and  mutable:  the 
doctrines  of  the  blessed  and  adorable  Jesus,  our  Saviour, 
are  fixed  and  immutable.  The  traditions  of  men  are 
dissimilar  and  inconsistent;  the  declarations  of  the  gos- 
pel are  harmonious,  not  only  with  each  other,  but  with 
the  acknowledged  attributes  of  the  Deity,  and  the  well 
known  condition  of  human  nature. 

"  What  do  sceptics  propose  to  give  us  in  exchange 
for  this  system  of  Christianity,  with  its  <  hidden  myste- 
ries/ *  miracles,'  '  signs  and  wonders?'  Doubt,  confu- 
sion, obscurity,  annihilation  !  Life — without  higher 
motive  than  selfishness  ; — death — without  hope  !  Is  it 
for  this  that  their  zeal  is  so  warmly  displayed  in  prose- 
lyting ?  Is  such  the  gain  to  accrue  for  the  relinquish- 
ment  of  our  souls  ?  In  very  deed  this  is  the  utmost  they 
have  to  propose,  and  we  can  only  account  for  their  ran- 
corous efforts  to  render  others  like  themselves,  by 
reflecting  that  misery  loves  company." 

In  the  last  letter  ever  received  from  him  he  ob- 
serves :  "I  have  just  concluded  the  publication  of  the 
translation  of  Levasseur's  account  of  Lafayette's  pro- 
gress through  the  United  States,  which  will  appear  next 
week. 

"  My  health  has  for  the  last  week  or  two  been  very 


180  MEMOIR   OF 

good,  for  me ;  since,  notwithstanding  my  rather  excessive 
application  during  this  time,  I  continue  to  do  well.  My 
cough  and  expectoration  are  sufficiently  troublesome; 
but,  by  light  diet,  and  avoiding  all  irritation,  I  have  but 
very  little  trouble  from  night  sweats,  and  generally  sleep 
tolerably  well.  My  emaciation  does  not  appear  to 
advance  very  rapidly,  though  there  is  no  reason  to  be- 
lieve it  will  cease. 

"  My  time  is  so  exceedingly  occupied  by  the  literary 
business  I  am  engaged  in,  that  it  is  with  great  difficulty 
that  I  can  attend  to  any  other  affairs.  However,  I  have 
always  intended  to  leave  behind  me  the  sort  of  memo- 
randa you  wish  for,  which  my  friends  may  use  at  their 
discretion.  I  have  to-day,  as  above  mentioned,  concluded 
one  book,  which  leaves  me  at  liberty  to  write  some  long 
deferred  letters.  To-morrow  I  must  resume  my  pen  to 
complete  some  articles  of  zoology  for  the  Enclyclopaedia 
Americana,  now  preparing  in  Boston.  It  shall  be  my 
constant  endeavour  to  husband  my  strength  to  the  last ; 
and  by  doing  as  much  as  is  consistent  with  safety  for  the 
good  of  my  fellow-creatures,  endeavour  to  discharge  a 
mite  of  the  immense  debt  I  owe  for  the  never  failing 
bounties  of  Providence." 

He  did  husband  his  strength,  and  he  toiled  with 
his  pen  almost  to  the  last  hours  of  his  life ;  and  by 
thus  doing  has  furnished  a  singular  evidence  of  the 
possibility  of  uniting  the  highest  attainments  in  science, 


JOHN  D.   GODMAN,   M.D.  181 

and  the  most  ardent  devotion  to  letters,  with  the  firmest 
belief  and  the  purest  practice  of  the  Christian.  But  the 
period  of  his  dissolution  was  not  distant :  the  summons 
arrived ;  and  conscious  that  the  messenger  who  had  been 
long  in  waiting  could  not  be  bribed  to  tarry,  he  com- 
mended his  little  family  in  a  fervent  prayer  to  Him  who 
has  promised  to  be  tho  "  Father  of  the  fatherless,  and 
the  widow's  God;"  and  then  with  uplifted  eyes  and 
hands,  and  a  face  beaming  with  joy  and  confidence, 
resigned  his  spirit  into  the  arms  of  his  Redeemer,  on  the 
morning  of  the  17th  of  April,  183Q,  aged  thirty-two 
years. 

A  friend,  who  was  his  constant  companion  during 
his  sickness,  and  witnessed  his  last  moments,  writes 
thus : — 

"You  ask  me  to  give  an  account  of  his  last  mo- 
ments :  they  were  such  as  have  robbed  me  of  all  terror 
of  death,  and  will  afford  me  lasting  comfort  through  life. 
The  same  self-composure  and  entire  resignation  which 
were  so  remarkable  through  his  whole  sickness,  supported 
him  to  the  end.  0  it  was  not  death — it  was  a  release 
from  mortal  misery  to  everlasting  happiness!  Such 
calmness  when  he  prayed  for  us  all, — such  a  heavenly 
composure,  even  till  the  breath  left  him,  you  would  have 
thought  he  was  going  only  a  short  journey.  During  the 
day  his  sufferings  had  been  almost  beyond  enduring. 
Frequently  did  he  pray  that  the  Lord  would  give  him 
16 


182  MEMOIR  OF  JOHN  D.   GODMAN,   M.D. 

patience  to  endure  all  till  the  end,  knowing  that  it  could 
not  be  many  hours ;  and  truly  his  prayers  were  heard. 
*  Lord  Jesus,  receive  my  soul !'  were  the  last  words  he 
uttered ;  and  his  countenance  appeared  as  if  he  had  a 
foretaste  of  heaven  even  before  his  spirit  left  this 
world." 


§r.  Warn  iorbon. 


(183) 


"  That  the  rejection  of  Revealed  Religion  implies  no  superiority  of 
intellect,  nor  attainments  in  Learning  and  Science,  has  been  abundantly 
demonstrated  by  the  records  of  almost  every  age :  for  Christianity  has 
incontestably  enrolled  in  her  registers  the  names  of  men,  whose  talents 
and  acquirements,  whose  labours  and  writings,  surpass  all  that  can 
be  adduced  to  support  the  credit  of  the  adversaries  of  the  Christian 

faith." 

JOHN  PEARSON,  F.  R.  S.,  F.  Ir.  S.,  M.  R.  J. 

Senior  Surgeon  of  Lock  Hospital,  $c. 


(184) 


MEMOIR  OF 
WILLIAM  GOKDON,  M.IX,  F.L.S. 

PARTI. 

HIS  CHARACTER  AS  A  PROFESSIONAL  MAN  AND  CITIZfiN. 

WILLIAM  GORDON  was  born  at  Fountains  Hall, 
August  2,  1801.  Some  of  his  ancestors  were 
distinguished  for  high  literary  attainments,  and  to  the 
intelligence  of  his  parents  he  was  largely  indebted  for 
the  ardent  love  of  study,  and  the  great  value  he  placed 
upon  sound  learning,  which  distinguished  him  throughout 
life.  He  was  liberally  educated  at  Ripon,  a  city  not  far 
from  his  birth-place.  •  On  leaving  Ripon,  he  was  put  as 
an  apprentice  to  a  general  practitioner  of  physic  at 
Otley.  A  reverse  in  the  fortune  of  his  father  embar- 
rassed the  course  of  the  son,  but  not  so  as  to  alter  the 
purpose  of  the  latter  to  obtain  a  thorough  training  for 
the  profession  which  he  had  chosen.  By  the  kindness 
of  a  friend,  who  lent  him  money,  he  was  enabled  to 
16  *  (185) 


186  MEMOIR  OF 

go  to  London,  and  commence  his  studies  ;  and,  after 
continuing  there  for  some  time,  he,  by  the  same  means, 
entered  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  in  order  to  com- 
plete his  course,  and  receive  his  medical  degree.  After 
a  residence  there  of  three  years,  and  as  he  was  about  to 
present  himself  for  the  degree,  he  was  induced  to  settle 
at  Welton,  about  nine  miles  from  Hull,  as  a  general 
practitioner,  intending  to  return  to  the  University  the 
following  year  for  his  diploma ;  but  this  was  not  accom- 
plished until  several  years  afterwards,  when,  however,  it 
was  awarded  with  great  honour. 

In  1826,  before  he  graduated  at  Edinburgh,  he  mar- 
ried a  daughter  of  James  Lowthorp,  Esq.,  of  Welton 
Hall.  Having  acquired  a  lucrative  practice,  many  warm 
friends,  and  extensive  influence  at  Welton,  he  was  induced 
to  remain  there  for  several  years.  In  1841  he  settled 
at  Hull,  and  continued  to  reside  there  until  the  period 
of  his  death,  February  7th,  1849. 

Dr.  Gordon  was  a  man  of  education — of  science. 
His  mind  was  sound,  and  always  actively  engaged ;  he 
was  a  thinking  man  in  a  double  sense — ever  thinking, 
and  always  thinking  for  himself.  His  whole  history 
exhibits  the  Scholar,  the  Physician,  and  the  Philosopher. 
The  following  "System  of  Study,"  found  among  his 
papers  after  death,  will  indicate  the  character  of  his 
mind,  and  the  range  of  his  studies,  whilst  a  beginner  in 
medical  practice,  at  Welton.  The  paper  bears  date 
August,  1827. 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  187 

MONDAY — Natural  Philosophy. 

TUESDAY — Chemistry,  Pharmacy,  Mineralogy,  or  Ge- 
ology. 

WEDNESDAY— Zoology,  Anatomy,  Physiology,  or  Sur- 
gery- 

THURSDAY— Vegetable    Physiology,    Botany,    Materia 

Medica,  or  Agriculture. 

FRIDAY — Pathology  and  Practice  of  Medicine,  or  Mid- 
wifery. 

SATURDAY — Languages,  Logic,  Moral  Philosophy,  Poli- 
tical Economy,  or  Algebra. 

About  this  time,  a  small  volume  on  the  Practice  of 
Surgery  appeared,  and,  in  1832,  a  work  known  as  "A 
Critical  Inquiry  concerning  a  new  Membrane  in  the 
Eye,"  both  the  product  of  his  pen.  He  wrote  for  the 
various  medical  journals,  and  contributed  to  The  London 
Magazine  of  Natural  History.  In  1832,  he  was  elected 
a  Fellow  of  the  Linnsean  Society. 

After  his  settlement  at  Hull,  he  became,  if  possible, 
yet  more  abundant  in  labours.  He  was  devoted  to  his 
profession,  but  yet  not  unmindful  of  the  great  questions 
of  public  interest.  He  soon  became  a  member  of  the 
borough  corporation  of  Hull.  In  this  position,  he  took 
a  leading  part  in  the  promotion  of  what  he  conceived  to 
be  the  cause  of  popular  progress.  He  paid  earnest 
regard  to  parliamentary  and  financial  reform,  to  freedom 


188  MEMOIR  OF 

in  trade,  and  particularly  to  all  questions  of  special 
interest  to  the  labouring  classes.  He  had  the  poor 
man's  interest  mainly  at  heart,  and  laboured,  in  various 
ways,  to  improve  his  condition.  He  delivered  lectures 
for  the  working  masses,  on  scientific  and  philosophical 
subjects,  and,  on  all  suitable  public  occasions,  spoke  in 
behalf  of  their  political,  social,  and  industrial  rights. 
His  enlarged  benevolence  did  not  only  exhibit  itself  in 
the  advocacy  of  the  poor  man's-  interests,  but  from  his 
own  purse  the  penniless  were  relieved,  and  from  his 
table  the  hungry  were  fed. 

Deeply  impressed  with  the  terrible  ruin  to  which 
intemperance  gives  rise,  wherever  it  prevails,  he  became 
the  zealous  advocate  of  total  abstinence.  This  he  seemed 
to  consider  as  peculiarly  his  duty,  and  he  discharged  it 
with  immense  effect,  but  with  no  inconsiderable  pecu- 
niary sacrifice  to  himself.  In  1845,  he  was  made  the 
President  of  the  Hull  Christian  Temperance  Society. 

The  moral  power  which  Dr.  Gordon,  in  this  and 
various  other  ways,  acquired  over  the  masses,  was  widely 
extended  and  potent.  He  was  everywhere  known  as 
"  The  Poor  Man's  Friend."  His  praise  was  upon  the 
tongue  of  the  needy,  and  of  him  it  might  be  said, 
"  When  the  ear  heard  him,  then  it  blessed  him ;  when 
the  eye  saw  him,  it  gave  witness  unto  him.  The  bless- 
ing of  him  that  was  ready  to  perish  came  upon  him,  and 
he  made  the  widow's  heart  to  sing  for  joy.  He  was  a 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  189 

father  to  the  poor,  and  the  cause  which  he  knew  not  he 
sought  out." 

Symptoms  of  fatal  disease  appeared  in  the  spring 
of  1848.  During  the  ensuing  summer  he  failed  rapidly, 
and  in  the  fall  it  became  certain  that  he  could  not  reco- 
ver. His  disease  was  not  satisfactorily  understood  by 
himself  or  his  medical  advisers.  Among  these  were 
Drs.  Ayre  and  Horner,  and  Messrs.  Twining,  Craven, 
and  Becket.  In  February  following  he  died. 

Soon  after  the  death  of  Dr.  Gordon,  a  public  meeting 
was  held,  which  was  very  numerously  attended,  when  it 
was  resolved  to  erect  over  his  grave  a  "  People's  Monu- 
ment," by  public  contribution.  The  amount  desired  was 
speedily  obtained,  and  a  white  marble  obelisk,  twenty- 
five  feet  high,  now  stands  over  his  grave,  bearing  the 
following  inscription : — 

ERECTED  BY  PUBLIC  SUBSCRIPTION 

TO 

WILLIAM  GORDON,  M.D.,  F.L.S. 

THE  PEOPLE'S  FRIEND. 

OB.  FEB.  7, 1849,  ^ET.  47. 

One  of  the  medical  gentlemen  who  attended  Dr. 
Gordon,  in  an  obituary  published  in  several  of  the  pro- 
vincial papers,  uses  the  following  language : 

"  Another  great  and  good  man  has  been  taken  away 
from  the  midst  of  us.  The  community  at  large,  and  of 


190  MEMOIR  OP      • 

Hull  more  especially,  can  ill  afford  the  loss  it  has  just 
sustained,  in  the  lamented  removal  by  death  of  Dr. 
Gordon. 

"  Connected  with  a  profession  distinguished  for  its 
broad  sympathies,  high  intelligence,  and  comprehensive 
charities,  his  was,  nevertheless,  no  merely  official  charac- 
ter; his  daily  walk  no  ordinary  routine.  No  profes- 
sional training,  however  severe,  no  educational  advan- 
tages, however  great,  would  have  necessarily  produced 
a  Dr.  William  Gordon.  Of  him  it  was  peculiarly  true, 
that  to  know  him  was  to  love  him;  and  yet  (owing, 
perhaps,  to  his  love  of  retirement,  and  of  domestic 
enjoyment),  few  public  men  have  been  at  once  so  much, 
and  yet  so  little,  known,  as  the  deceased. 

"  But  it  is  chiefly  as  a  man,  and  as  a  physician,  and 
a  friend,  that  his  name  will  be  cherished  and  revered. 
The  narrower  circle  of  those  who,  during  his  brief  career, 
shared  his  professional  services,  and  still  more  those  who 
enjoyed  his  friendship  and  the  privilege  of  his  society, 
can  alone  fully  know  what  the  community  has  lost  by 
his  removal.  That  nameless  charm  which  exalts  and 
beautifies  every  other  personal  attribute,  was  pre-emi- 
nently his.  Naturally  gifted,  frank  in  his  demeanour? 
approachable,  patient,  sympathizing,  intelligent,  he  was 
eminently  qualified  for  the  duties  of  a  physician,  for 
which  a  lengthened  and  diversified  experience,  a  liberal 
education,  and,  alas  !  a  too  sedulous  application  to  study, 


WILLIAM   GOKDON,   M.  D.  191 

further  fitted  him.  That  high  humanity,  which  almost 
includes  all  moral  excellence,  was  conspicuous  in  his 
general  deportment,  and,  together  with  a  great  open- 
ness, urbanity,  and  simplicity  of  character,  rendered  him 
an  object  of  affectionate  regard  to  all  who  really  knew 
him, — especially  to  the  poor,  who  have  lost  in  him  a 
sincere  and  sympathizing  friend,  and  whose  affectionate 
remembrance  will  form  his  best  and  most  enduring 
monument." 


PART  II. 

HIS  MORAL  AND  RELIGIOUS  CHARACTER. 

THE  character  of  Dr.  Gordon,  up  to  the  period  of  his 
fatal  illness,  had  presented,  even  to  the  eye  of  close 
inquiry,  some  traits  resembling  the  brightest  of  the 
Christian,  and  still  quite  in  keeping  with  a  high  order 
of  mere  natural  goodness.  He  was  honest  in  opinion, 
unswerving  in  a  continued  course  of  unquestioned  integ- 
rity, devoted  to  the  maintenance  of  truth  and  good 
morals,  and  all  this,  too,  with  so  much  amiability  of 
manner,  yet  steadfastness  of  purpose,  so  obliging,  yet  so 
firm,  that  few  men,  even  among  professing  Christians, 
seemed  to  excel  him  in  these  respects.  He  was  not 
rash,  to  be  led  into  impulsive  reformations ;  not  opinion- 
ated, to  be  enamoured  of  some  favourite  plan  in  morals 
or  religion  driving  him  into  its  intolerant  defence ;  but 
his  was  a  steady,  even  light,  which  shone  in  the  con- 
sistent advocacy  and  support  of  well  ascertained  truth. 
He  was  captivatingly  affectionate,  ardent  in  the  practice 

(192) 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  193 

of  the  social  virtues,  and  devoted  to  the  promotion  of 
domestic  felicity. 

The  good  name  enjoyed  by  him,  sustained  by  so  many 
real  excellencies  of  character,  it  was  feared  by  his  family 
might  lure  him  into  a  false  religious  security, — that  he 
might  rely  upon  himself,  partially,  at  least,  if  not  wholly, 
and  not  alone  upon  the  cross  for  salvation.  He  had 
never  made  any  profession  of  religion,  nor  open  avowal 
of  his  belief  in  the  essential  doctrines  of  an  evangelical 
faith ;  not  even  to  his  own  family.  This  could  not  fail 
to  add  to  their  fears.  More  than  this,  an  impression 
prevailed  to  some  extent,  that  he  was  sceptical  in  reli- 
gion. However  unfounded  this  impression  may  have 
been  in  the  judgment  of  his  friends,  the  mere  fact  of  its 
prevalence  at  all,  served  by  no  means  to  allay  fears 
already  excited  with  regard  to  the  ground  of  his  religious 
hope. 

The  mode  of  inquiry  into  religious  truth,  to  which 
Dr.  Gordon  was  given,  may  have  induced  the  suspicion 
that  he  was  inclined  to  scepticism.  He  desired  the  truth, 
but  the  evidence  upon  which  it  rested  must  be  little  less 
than  that  of  demonstration.  It  was  no  secret  with  him, 
that  he  freely  examined  every  form  of  infidelity.  He 
read  books,  conversed  with  those  who  professedly  enter- 
tained such  views,  and,  in  short,  made  it  a  point  to  elicit 
information  whenever  and  wherever  it  seemed  to  offer 
,  itself.  His  questions  to  individuals  were  of  a  kind  some- 
17 


194  MEMOIR   OF 

times  to  leave  the  impression  that  he  was  inclined  to 
some  form  of  rationalism.  The  very  frankness  of  his 
nature  prevented  that  disguise  on  these  occasions  which 
others  less  honest  would  feel  at  liberty  to  practise.  As 
every  man  should  do,  he  looked  for  some  sure  source  of 
consolation  which  reached  beyond  the  grave,  and,  Chris- 
tianity proposing  such  relief,  he  promptly  began  to 
assure  himself  of  its  truth  or  falsehood.  Objections  to  it 
grew  into  importance  as  the  inquiry  progressed :  they  de- 
manded answers,  but  these  answers  were  not  at  first  fully 
satisfactory ;  he  sought  the  opinion  of  others  by  inter- 
rogatories which  made  no  effort  to  conceal  his  own  per- 
plexity, that  he  might  compare  their  views  with  his  own. 
Infidelity,  always  industriously  at  work  to  spread  its 
poison,  ever  ready  to  pervert  and  distort  honest  opinion, 
would  hardly  fail  to  direct  general  attention  to  one  so 
prominent  as  Dr.  Gordon.  "  Thus  it  became,"  says  his 
biographer,  "  a  somewhat  general  impression  in  certain 
quarters,  that  Dr.  Gordon  was  not  a  believer  in  divine 
revelation." 

But  the  immediate  friends  of  Dr.  Gordon  knew  better 
than  this.  They  could  not  easily  reconcile  the  uniform 
reverence  paid  to  the  word  and  worship  of  God,  and  the 
constant  preference  shown  for  the  society  of  Christians, 
with  a  rejection  of  Christianity  as  the  result  of  such 
labour  as  they  well  knew  he  would  be  likely  to  bestow 
upon  an  examination  of  its  claims  to  divine  truth.  Ot 


WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  195 

his  hearty  assent  to  its  divine  origin  and  authority,  there 
could  be  no  doubt ;  but  did  he  understand,  and  had  he 
experienced  the  saving  power  of  the  religion  of  the 
cross ;  was  he  relying  upon  himself  or  upon  the  blood  of 
Christ  for  redemption  ?  This  was  the  point  of  intense 
interest  and  anxiety  with  his  friends. 

With  this  impression  prevailing  in  the  public  mind 
"in  certain  quarters,"  and  this  fear  and  anxiety  in  the 
bosom  of  his  immediate  friends  and  relatives,  let  us  turn 
to  the  winter  of  1848-9,  behold  Dr.  Gordon  on  his  death- 
bed, and  follow  him  to  the  tomb. 

As  the  illness  of  Dr.  Gordon  increased,  it  was  natural 
that  his  family  should  feel  a  deeper  concern  for  his  spi- 
ritual welfare ;  and,  therefore,  the  anxiety  to  know  his 
real  condition  increased  daily  \  but  nothing  had  as  yet 
transpired  to  relieve  it  satisfactorily.  "It  was  felt," 
says  his  biographer,  "  that  to  interrogate  him  in  reference 
to  it  would  elicit  no  information,  but  very  probably  might 
seal  his  lips  for  the  future  !  He  said  on  one  occasion,  to 
a  beloved  and  anxious  relative — 4 1  cannot  understand 
that  religion  which  friends  extort  from  people  when  they 
are  dying,  urging  them  to  say,  "  I  believe ;"  and  thinking 
it  sufficient  if  they  can  be  induced  to  declare  they  have 
faith  in  Christ.'  It  was  evident  from  such  observations, 
that  it  would  be  injudicious  to  attempt  to  elicit  anything 
from  him  on  the  subject  by  direct  inquiry.  On  this 


196  MEMOIR  OF 

account  spontaneous   remarks  were  the  more  eagerly 
watched  for,  and  the  more  carefully  cherished." 

The  desired  revelation  of  his  mind  came  gradually, 
but  in  due  time  :  He  would  say,  at  times  when  the  symp- 
toms became  more  alarming,  "  Remember,  I  am  very 
happy ;  I've  no  fear  of  death."  Again — "  I  am  very  ill, 
but  not  afraid  to  die."  His  wife  repeated  the  words, 
"  The  sting  of  death  is  sin,  and  the  strength  of  sin  is  the 
law ;  but  thanks  be  to  God  which  giveth  us  the  victory, 
through  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ."  He  said,  with  em- 
phasis, "And  he  has  given  me  the  victory.  My  views 
on  these  subjects  have  been  changed  for  many  years, 
though  I  do  not  talk  much  about  it." 
*  The  brazen  serpent  was  spoken  of,  when  he  replied, 
"  I've  had  my  eye  on  that  brazen  serpent  a  long  time." 
An  attendant  seeing  him  put  on  a  pair  of  "  overalls," 
observed,  "  They'll  think  you're  going  a  journey."  Said 
he,  •"  Yes :  I  am,  and  a  long  journey ;  but  it's  the  hap- 
piest journey  I  ever  took.  It's  a  wonder  to  myself  that 
I  have  no  wish  for  this  world.  It's  all  very  delightful, 
but  I  have  no  wish  for  it."  At  another  time,  "I  am  so 
happy  !  Indeed  these  last  two  days  I've  had  such  delight 
in  the  prospect  of  eternity,  that  I've  had  to  put  it  aside. 
It  is  almost  more  than  I  can  bear." 

Conversing  with  a  friend  he  said,  in  relation  to  ma- 
terialism, "  I  have  studied  the  subject  deeply ;  indeed  I 
Have  read  all  the  celebrated  writings  of  Deists  and 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  197 

Atheists.  There  was  a  time  when  I  was  beguiled  by 
their  sophistry.  Then,  I  confess,  some  serious  doubts 
arose  in  my  mind ;  but  they  did  not  last  long,  and  I 
have  never  been  troubled  with  them  since.  Thank  God, 
I  have  no  doubts  or  fears  now.  I  am  not  afraid  to  die." 

But  although  these  and  other  remarks  fell  from  him 
from  time  to  time,  it  yet  remained  for  him  to  make  a 
distinct  and  satisfactory  avowal  of  the  ground  of  his 
consolation  and  hope.  Here  it  is  : 

Dr.  G-.  "  I  very  much  wonder  you  all  avoid  the  sub- 
ject of  my  death." 

N.  "  It  is  too  distressing  to  us.  Besides,  we  cannot 
give  up  all  hope  of  your  recovery." 

Dr.  Cr.  "  But  I  do  not  wish  to  avoid  the  subject.  It 
is  always  in  my  thoughts.  I  had  a  happy  day  yester- 
day. Perhaps  you  would  not  think  what  made  it  so.  It 
was  the  prospect  of  the  delightful  journey  I  am  going  to 
take." 

N.  "If  we  are  trusting  only  to  Christ,  there  is 
nothing  in  death  which  should  make  us  afraid.  It  ought 
not  to  be  terrible  to  a  Christian." 

Dr.  a.  "Of  course  not." 

N.  "  It  is  but  going  out  of  one  room  into  another,  to 
which  our  friends  are  soon  to  follow  us." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  Not  so.  It  is  far  better.  It  is  a  very 
pleasant  journey,"  (with  great  emphasis.)  After  a 
pause  he  added,  "  I  am  astonished  it  should  ever  be 
17* 


198  MEMOIR  OF 

spoken  of  as  a  difficult  thing  for  men  to  acknowledge 
their  own  unworthiness.  When  I  look  on  my  own  life 
and  examine  it,  I  see  it  has  been  a  life  of  imperfection 
and  selfishness.  My  best  actions  were  unworthy,  and  a 
mixture  of  selfish  motive  was  in  my  most  benevolent 
efforts." 

Mrs.  G.  referred  to  a  small  volume  containing  the 
experience  of  Dr.  John  Mason  Good,  who  confessed  that 
his  righteousness  was  but  as  filthy  rags. 

Dr.  6r.  "  That  is  my  doctrine.  Not  because  Mason 
Good  said  so,  but  because  the  Bible  tells  me  so.  Perhaps 
you  and  others  may  have  fancied  I  have  not  thought 
much  on  these  subjects,  because  I  have  not  said  much, 
but  I  have  felt  deeply,  and  for  years." 

Here  was  a  disclosure  which  dispelled  the  doubts  of 
anxious  friends,  and  caused  hope  and  joy  to  abound. 
The  great  subject  of  religion  had  been  at  the  heart  of 
the  dying  man  for  many  years,  and  he  had  been  the  sub- 
ject of  the  Holy  Spirit's  work ;  but  from  motives  which 
appear  in  a  subsequent  part  of  the  narrative,  was  induced 
to  keep  all  a  secret. 

How  far  Dr.  Gordon  may  have  been  justifiable  in  his 
own  case  in  failing  to  publicly  identify  himself  with  the 
professed  followers  of  Jesus,  it  may  not  be  wise  to  ven- 
ture an  opinion ;  but  as  it  respects  the  question  which  it 
involves, — whether  the  duty  of  the  subjects  of  converting 


WILLIAM  GORDON,   M.  D.  199 

grace  to  unite  with  the  people  of  God  is  imperative,  there 
can  be  but  one  answer.  The  word  of  God  clearly  teaches 
the  duty ;  and  there  is  much  danger  in  failing  to  dis- 
charge it,  be  the  reason  never  so  good  according  to  human 
judgment. 


l.il     I 


•  * 


PART  III. 

THE  TRIUMPH  OF  GRACE. 
CHAPTER  I. 

THE  NIGHT  OF  JANUARY  13. 

DR.  GORDON  was  supposed  to  be  dying  on  the  even- 
ing of  January  13,  in  consequence  of  a  sudden  and 
very  alarming  change  for  the  worse.  The  violence  of 
the  attack  having  passed  off,  he  said,  "  If  consciousness 
of  my  own  unworthiness,  and  reliance  on  Christ  alone, 
be  proper  ground  of  peace,  I  have  it,  and  have  long  had 
it.  But  you  must  not  think  that,  because  I  have  not 
talked  of  these  things,  therefore  I  have  not  thought  of 
them.  I  have  long  been  feeling  my  way  after  the 
truth."  That  beautiful  hymn  being  repeated, — "Jesus, 
lover  of  my  soul,'* — he  exclaimed,  with  deep  feeling,  "I 
reiterate  that." 

Dreadful  agony  now  came  on.     He  frequently  raised 
himself  in  bed,  and  lifted  up  his  arms  in  great  distress, 

(200) 


WILLIAM  GORDON,   M.D.  201 

comparing  his  sensations  to  the  effect  of  ten  thousand 
screws  tearing  him  to  pieces.  He  once  cried  out,  "  0, 
my  friends,  my  children,  can  you  do  nothing  for  me  ? 
0,  my  Heavenly  Father,  help  me !  0,  my  dear  Jesus, 
take  me !"  Frequent  vomiting,  and  the  necessity  of 
continually  changing  his  position,  added  to  his  distress. 
But  he  retained  most  fully  his  self-possession,  frequently 
feeling  his  pulse,  making  remarks  on  its  intermittent 
character,  and  calling  for  remedies  as  the  symptoms 
varied :  often  expressing  his  surprise  that  he  continued 
so  long.  His  intellect  retained  all  its  clearness;  his 
love  for  others  all  its  tenderness.  At  one  time,  from 
sudden  feeling  at  the  heart,  he  considered  he  was  in  the 
act  of  dying,  for  he  said  earnestly  to  those  of  his  family 
present,  "  Come,  kiss  me,  all  of  you,  quick,  quick,"  as 
though  life  might  be  extinct  ere  he  had  given  them  an 
individual  farewell. 

At  intervals  he  would  say :  "  Kememher,  this  pain  is 
only  bodily.  I've  no  fear.  Is  this  because  I've  no 
dependence  on  myself,  but  am  trusting  to  Jesus  alone  ? 
If  I  come,  will  he  reject  me  ?  And  will  he  put  those 
white  robes  on  me  ?  This  is  indeed  agony,  torture :  but 
what  a  mercy  that  my  mind  is  at  perfect  peace !  Ke- 
member  me  to  my  friends ;  I  hope  they  will  keep  me  in 
mind.  I  wish  to  live  in  your  affections.  I  shall  be  with 
you.  I  shall  be  there  to  meet  you." 

The  hope  of  reunion  with  those  very  dear  was  a 


202  MEMOIR   OF 

source  of  great  happiness  to  him.  His  love  for  them 
became  more  intense  as  the  power  of  religion  was  more 
highly  developed.  All  his  tender  human  sympathies 
were  increased  by  the  strength  of  his  religious  emotions. 
Being  assured  that  his  memory  would  always  be  sacred 
with  them,  he  said,  "  That's  delightful.  I  wish  to  be 
missed.  I  should  be  unhappy  if  I  thought  it  would  not 
be  so.  You  comfort  me  very  much."  Then  looking 
upon  the  members  of  his  family,  who  stood  around  his 
bed,  his  eye  passing  from  one  to  the  other,  with  beaming 
affection,  he  said,  "  This  is  what  I  have  often  pictured 
to  myself,  as  I  have  lain  awake  at  night.  I've  seen  it 
all,  just  like  this,  and  seen  myself  in  my  coffin,  and  you 
at  my  funeral." 

Speaking  of  his  past  life,  and  of  his  present  hope,  he 
said,  "  My  natural  disposition  led  me  to  do  many  things 
of  a  benevolent  character,  but  this  was  not  love  to  God. 
Mere  natural  disposition  will  not  do.  There  needs  some- 
thing better  for  a  holy  God.  I  am  quite  unworthy, 
corrupt,  corrupt!" 

The  distinction  he  thus  made  between  the  impulse  of 
mere  natural  goodness  and  principle,  is  most  important, 
yet  it  is  one  generally  overlooked.  It  is  the  motive 
which  gives  the  true  quality  to  an  action.  But  alas ! 
how  many  there  are,  who,  in  the  absence  of  this  love  to 
God,  trust  in  the  efficacy  of  pious  and  benevolent  acts. 
How  often  is  a  man's  general  amiability  alleged  as  a 


203 

good  evidence  that  he  died  the  death  of  the  righteous ! 
The  very  insensibility  to  the  claims  of  Grod,  which  makes 
men  so  ready  to  build  their  hopes  on  their  own  kind 
actions,  is  one  of  the  most  striking  proofs  of  human  de- 
pravity! But  when  the  Holy  Spirit  enlightens  the 
mind  to  understand  our  obligations,  then,  with  Job,  we 
"  abhor  ourselves,  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes."  All 
who  knew  Dr.  Gordon  could  testify,  that  if  ever  the 
hope  of  eternal  life  could  be  based  on  the  foundation  of 
a  blameless  and  benevolent  life,  it  might  have  been  by 
him.  Yet  how  poignant  was  his  conviction  that  in  all 
his  actions,  even  the  very  best  of  them,  he  was  corrupt, 
corrupt ! 

Once,  and  only  once,  a  transient  cloud  seemed  to 
pass  over  him.  He  said,  "  I  don't  see  Jesus  as  I  wish. 
I  don't  see  him  vividly."  But  in  less  than  an  hour  his 
countenance  brightening  with  joy,  he  said,  "  I  seem  to 
see  Jesus  now.  He  is  vividly  before  me,  waiting  for 
me.  He  is  here  in  all  his  love  and  mercy." 

The  following  favourite  hymn  was  repeated : — 

' '  There  is  a  happy  land, 

Far,  far  away; 
Where  saints  in  glory  stand, 

Bright,  bright  as  day. 
Hark,  how  they  sweetly  sing, 
Worthy  is  our  Saviour  king, 
Loud  let  his  praises  ring, 

Praise,  praise  for  aye ! 


204  MEMOIR   OP 

Come  to  this  happy  land, 

Come,  come  away ! 
Why  will  ye  doubting  stand  ? 

Why  thus  delay? 
On  then,  to  glory  on, 
Be  a  crown  and  kingdom  won, 
Then  bright  above  the  sun, 

We'll  reign  for  aye ! 

Bright  in  that  happy  land 

Beams  every  eye ; 
Fed  by  a  Father's  hand, 

Love  cannot  die ! 
Oh,  we  shall  happy  be, 
When  from  sin  and  sorrow  free, 
Lord,  we  shall  reign  with  thee, 

Blest,  blest  for  aye !" 

"  I  think  I  see  it  before  me,"  said  he.  "  I  am  going 
to  Jesus.  I  have  embraced  him,  and  he  will  receive  me. 
Our  best  actions  are  filthy  rags.  There  is  pride  and 
selfishness  mixed  up  with  them  all.  I  have  thought, 
and  written,  and  done  a  great  deal,  but  it's  all  nothing. 
I  feel  the  need  of  a  better  righteousness.  It  is  in 
Christ,  and  so  easily  obtained  !  I  have  found  it !" 

Again : — 

"  Just  as  I  am — without  one  plea, 
But  that  thy  blood  was  shed  for  me, 
And  that  thou  bidd'st  me  come  to  thee, 
0  Lam>  of  God,  I  come ! 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.D.  205 

"  Just  as  I  am — and  waiting  not 
To  rid  my  soul  of  one  dark  blot, 
To  thee,  whose  blood  can  cleanse  each  spot, 
0  Lamb  of  God,  I  come ! 

"Just  as  I  am— thy  love  unknown 
Has  broken  every  barrier  down ; 
Now,  to  be  thine,  yea,  thine  alone, 
0  Lamb  of  God,  I  come  1" 

He  exclaimed,   "  0 !  beautiful !    That's  the  way  I 
come." 

To  a  clergyman  who  had  been  preaching  on  infi- 
delity, he  said :  "  There  is  a  great  deal  of  infidelity  in 
young  men.  You  have  many  of  them  about  you.  Tell 
them,  from  me,  I  have  read  a  great  many  sceptical 
books,  ancient  and  modern,  of  all  sorts.  It  is  all  very 
fine,  but  very  fallacious.  They  are  very  plausible,  but 
can  give  no  consolation  in  a  dying  hour.  We  can  only 
obtain  peace  by  casting  ourselves  on  Jesus ;  putting 
reasoning  aside,  and  asking  him  to  cleanse  the  thoughts 
of  our  hearts  by  the  inspiration  of  the  Holy  Spirit!" 
...  To  another  clergyman  he  said,  "Preach  with  an 
earnestness.  Tell  the  people  of  the  peace,  and  the  joy, 
and  the  happiness,  and  the  calm.  It's  no  use  reasoning. 
Preachers  should  dwell  on  the  mercies  of  God.  He  is 
not  a  severe  God,  He  is  love !"  £i>  j 

The  sufferings  of  the  patient  continued  so  great  that 
his  death  at  any  moment  would  not  have  been  surprising. 
18 


206  MEMOIR   OF 

He  bade  an  affectionate  adieu  to  most  of  those  around 
him.  To  one  of  his  nephews  he  said,  "  Seek  Christ. 
Don't  be  carried  away  by  the  world.  It's  all  vanity. 
It  will  not  comfort  you  at  death.  This  can  only  be 
found  by  trusting  in  Christ.  You  may  forget  this.  I 
have  heard  these  things  often  and  forgotten  them,  but 
it's  all  true."  To  another  nephew  he  said,  "  Good  bye, 
my  dear  boy.  You  learn  Latin.  Let  me  tell  you  what 
Adrian  said  to  his  soul  in  prospect  of  death : 

"Animula,  vagula,  blandula, 
Hospes  comesque  corporis, 
Quae  nunc  abibis  in  loca — 
Pallidula,  rigida,  nudula, 
Nee,  ut  soles,  dabis  jocos  ?" 

I  will  translate  it  for  you: — 'Kind  little  wandering 
soul,  companion  and  guest  of  my  body,  into  what  places 
art  thou  now  about  to  depart  ?'  And  then  Adrian  goes 
on  to  say,  how  dreary  and  forlorn  it  will  be.  0,  my 
dear  boy,  remember  what  a  much  better  hope  the  gospel 
gives  your  uncle  !" 

It  was  very  remarkable  to  hear  a  man  suffering  se- 
vere agony,  and  in  expectation  of  immediate  death,  so 
correctly  quoting,  and  so  beautifully  translating,  a  Latin 
author,  for  the  purpose  of  impressing  an  important 
truth  upon  the  mind  of  a  little  boy.  In  all  he  said,  he 
studied  to  adapt  himself  to  the  peculiar  cases  of  those 
whom  he  addressed. 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  20T 


CHAPTER  II. 

FROM  SUNDAY,  JANUARY  14,  TO  SUNDAY,  JANUARY  21. 

IT1HE  beloved  sufferer  was  spared  to  his  family  for 
-I-  more  than  three  weeks  after  the  trying  scenes  of 
the  night  of  the  13th  of  January,  during  the  whole  of 
which  time  his  mental  faculties  retained  their  full  vigour. 
The  violence  of  his  pain  ahated,  and  he  was  enabled  to 
enjoy  constant  intercourse  with  his  friends.  He  loved 
to  have  his  family  always  around  his  bed,  and  to  spend 
his  waking  hours  in  reciprocation  of  affection,  and  con- 
versation or  reading  on  the  great  themes  of  the  love  of 
Christ  and  the  glories  of  heaven. 

Many,  besides  his  immediate  connexions,  shared  in 
the  privilege  of  conversing  with  him  on  his  dying  bed. 
He  saw  all  who  desired  an  interview,  delighting  in  the 
opportunity  thus  given  him  of  commending  that  Saviour, 
who  had,  in  so  remarkable  a  degree,  given  him  "the 
peace  which  passeth  all  understanding."  He  received 
nearly  three  hundred  visits,  during  this  period,  from 
persons  of  all  ranks ;  but  whether  rich  or  poor,  he  wel- 
comed them  with  equal  courtesy,  saying  something  appro- 
priate to  each,  and  pointing  all  to  "  the  Lamb  of  God, 


208  MEMOIR  OF 

which  taketh  away  the  sin  of  the  world."  The  Eev. 
Dr.  Dobbin,  at  his  funeral,  said  of  that  sick  room,  that 
it  was  "  not  at  all  the  chamber  of  death,  but  the  robing- 
room  of  heaven  /" 

The  relatives  were  anxious  to  preserve  everything  he 
said,  as  a  solace  for  the  season  of  bereavement,  and 
with  this  view,  and  one  more  extended,  if  at  any  time 
desirable,  his  son-in-law,  who  is  also  his  biographer,  took 
short-hand  notes  of  almost  everything  that  Dr.  G.  said 
during  the  time  he  was  confined  to  his  bed.  This  was 
difficult  to  accomplish,  as  it  was  necessary  to  avoid  the 
observation  of  his  keen  eye,  which  scarcely  anything 
eluded,  for  had  he  known  that  a  record  was  kept  of  what 
he  said,  the  freedom  of  his  communications  would  have 
received  a  great  check.  But,  by  the  position  in  which 
the  writer  sat,  he  was  able  to  secure  a  faithful  record 
of  what  passed,  without  any  suspicion  on  the  part  of  his 
beloved  father-in-law.  This  statement  is  necessary,  in 
order  to  account  for  the  length  and  number  of  the  con- 
versations recorded,  and  to  correct  the  inference  likely 
to  be  drawn  from  the  precision  and  beauty  with  which 
many  of  Dr.  G.'s  sentiments  are  expressed,  that  the 
phraseology  was  the  result  of  subsequent  careful  revi- 
sion, and  not  the  unpremeditated  utterance  of  a  dying 
man.  The  biographer  assures  the  reader,  that  the  words, 
as  well  as  the  ideas,  are  Dr.  G.'s  own,  whose  extempora- 


WILLIAM   GORDON,  M.  D.  209 

neous  expressions  were  usually  marked  by  the  accuracy 
of  studied  compositions. 

January  14. — During  the  whole  of  this  day,  he 
seemed  gradually  sinking  from  extreme  exhaustion ;  so 
that,  as  far  as  the  feelings  of  his  family,  as  well  as  his 
own,  were  concerned,  it  was  still  a  dying  scene.  This 
was  the  case  until  his  death  actually  occurred,  and  hence 
everything  he  said,  possessed  the  interest  of  a  last 
utterance.  But  though  on  the  verge  of  the  other  world, 
and  longing  to  be  with  Jesus,  his  tender  heart  clung  to 
the  objects  of  earthly  affection.  The  sensibilities  of  the 
man  shone  forth  the  more  brightly  in  the  hope  and  joy 
of  the  Christian.  He  delighted  to  be  reassured  of  the 
affection  of  his  surviving  friends,  and  to  talk  over  the 
happy  scenes  of  former  years ;  but  said,  "  I  am  going  to 
a  better  country.'*  It  was  remarked,  "  This  is  a  bright, 
sunny  day."  He  replied,  "Yes;  but  I  shall  have  a 
brighter  one  next  Sunday."  Suddenly  stretching  out 
his  emaciated  hands,  and  somewhat  raising  his  head,  his 
countenance  beaming  with  rapture,  and  his  eyes  gazing, 
as  on  some  vision  of  beauty  and  splendour,  he  said,  "  I 
see  that  bright  region  spread  before  me,  where  there  ia 
no  night,  and  where  no  heat  scorches ;  and  I  see  Jesus 
too ;  He  is  waiting  to  receive  me !"  Then,  after  a 
pause, — "  It  would  not  do  for  a  worldly  mind  to  enter. 
It  could  not  enjoy  heaven.  There  must  be  a  change. 


210  MEMOIR  OF 

The  way  to  be  prepared  is  by  self-abasement,  and  reli- 
ance on  Christ." 

Mrs.  6r.  "Then  it  is  reliance  on  Him,  that  has 
given  you  so  much  peace  in  all  your  illness  ?" 

Dr.  Gi.  "Oh,  yes !  it  is  being  found  in  Him. 
Though  I  have  not  made  a  profession,  it  was  not 
because  I  was  ashamed^  of  Christ.  But  what  chiefly 
deterred  me  was  being  so  often  shocked  at  the  conduct 
of  professors." 

Mrs.  Gr.  "  I  hope  you  may  live  another  night,  that 
I  may  nurse  you ;  but  you  experience  that  it  is 

"  « Sweet  to  lie  passive  in  His  hands, 
And  know  no  will  but  His.'  " 

Dr.  Gr.  "Yes!  and  cast  everything  on  Him — cast 
everything  on  Him  ! 

Monday,  January  15. — Soon  after  waking,  he  asked 
that  some  Shrewsbury  cakes  might  be  sent  for.  At 
different  times  he  said,  "As  I  get  weaker,  my  faith  and 
prospects  are  stronger  and  brighter.  The  way  to  have 
strong  faith  is,  to  think  nothing  of  yourself.  You  have 
come  to  see  me ;  I  have  many  friends,  but  there  is  none 
comparable  to  Jesus.  I  thought  I  should  have  lived 
many  years,  but  how  little  we  know !  And  if  I  were  to 
live  twenty  years  more,  perhaps  my  friends  might  be 
gone,  and  I  have  no  consolation  like  this,  in  having  them 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  211 

all  around  me.  I  have  no  desire  to  get  better,  except 
to  be  of  use  in  propagating  the  gospel ;  I  WOULD  Mix  IT 
WITH  MY  PRACTICE.  If  I  lived,  it  would  be  my  whole 
delight  to  publish  Christ."  It 

The  willingness  of  Christ  to  save  at  the  eleventh 
hour  being  mentioned,  he  rejoined — "Ah !  but  it  has  not 
been  the  eleventh  hour  with  me."  The  woman  being 
referred  to  who  touched  the  hem  of  Christ's  garment,  he 
said,  with  great  emphasis — "  But  I  have  embraced  him, 
and  wish  to  be  like  him." 

To  Sir  W.  L.— "I  have  just  been  thinking  I  shall  be 
looking  down  from  those  happy  realms  on  you  toiling 
with  the  storms  and  winters  of  life.  I  only  regret  I  have 
not  seen  earlier  that  glorious  Q-ospel  as  I  now  see  it,  so 
as  to  have  preached  it  to  the  multitudes  of  men  I  have 
addressed.  If  restored,  nothing  should  I  rejoice  in  more 
than  this.  I  should  never  be  ashamed  of  Jesus;  I 
would  preach  him  to  all.  An  infidel  once  said  tome, 
after  hearing  N.  preach,  that,  if  he  believed  such  things, 
he  could  never  cease  praying  for,  and  pleading  with  the 
people.  That  is  just  as  I  feel  I  should  do  if  I  were 
spared.  My  physical  strength  might  not  be  sufficient, 
but  as  to  the  interest  and  delight  of  it,  I  should  never 
tire.  At  Harrowgate  I  met  a  son  of  Mr.  W.'s,  and  was 
disposed  to  smile  at  him,  for  relinquishing  a  lucrative 
business  in  order  to  preach  the  Gospel.  But  I  could 


212  MEMOIK  OP 

delight  to  do  the  same  thing  now.     I  could  relinquish 
everything  for  this." 

Tuesday,  16.  On  awaking,  he  said,  "  Read  to  me 
something  about  heaven."  Having  listened  to  Bunyan's 
incomparable  description  of  the  passage  of  the  pilgrims 
through  the  river,  and  their  entrance  into  the  celestial 
city,  he  said,  "  It  is  not  half  so  beautiful  as  I  have  pic- 
tured it  to  myself."  Various  selections  from  the  Bible 
and  hymns,  descriptive  of  the  heavenly  state,  called  forth 
frequent  expressions  of  the  delight  he  felt  in  the  pros- 
pect of  soon  realizing  it. 

To  a  pious  workingman  who  called  to  bid  him  fare- 
well, he  said,  "  You  see  me  better  than  you  ever  saw  me 
before,  Mr.  W.  I  have  sought  the  Saviour  you  serve. 
I  have  asked  him  to  forgive  my  sins,  and  he  has  done  so. 
He  will  present  me  to  the  Almighty.  I  am  going  a  very 
delightful  journey,  to  a  very  happy  home,  where  I  shall 
meet  only  with  the  wise  and  good.  And  to  be  with 
Jesus !  I  would  not  change  my  present  condition  for  all 
the  wealth  in  the  world  1  This  has  been  a  gradual  thing 
with  me,  though  I  have  not  had  such  great  joy  till  now. 
It  is  brighter  to-day  than  ever.  1  have  not  had  a  cloud 
all  through  my  illness.  How  great  is  the  goodness  of 
God !  And  all  to  be  had  for  asking  1  Nothing  to  do 
for  ourselves — but  to  take  what  God  gives  us !  All  made 
ready  for  us.  Only  to  humble  ourselves  and  receive. 
It's  so  clear  that  when  once  seen  it  is  impossible  to  doubt. 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  213 

Press  on  with  vigour.     You  won't  reach  perfection  here, 
but  seek  the  Holy  Spirit." 

W.  "  I  am  delighted  to  see  you  thus,  doctor." 

Dr.  Cr.  "  I  am  delighted  to  see  you,  Mr.  W.,  and  all 
who  entertain  such  views,  and  are  sincere  like  yourself. 
Learning,  richesy  fame,  are  all  nothing  in  comparison."' 

W.  "  I  have  often  prayed  for  you,  doctor,  when  I've 
passed  you  in  the  street.  There  is  nothing  like  religion 
for  such  times  as  these." 

Dr.  &.  "For  all  times.  In  health  there  is  no 
pleasure  like  this." 

Dr.  G.  Was  much  interested  in  listening  to  some  of 
Cromwell's  letters.  The  following  extract  especially 
delighted  him :  "  Salute  your  dear  wife  from  me. 
Bid  her  beware  of  a  bondage  spirit.  Fear  is  the  natural 
issue  of  such  a  spirit;  the  antidote  is  love.  The  voice  of 
fear  is :  if  I  had  done  this ;  if  I  had  done  that,  how 
well  it  had  been  with  me !  I  know  this  hath  been  her 
vain  reasoning.  Love  argueth  in  this  wise:  What  a 
Christ  have  I!  What  a  Father  in  and  through  him  ! 
What  a  name  hath  my  Father:  Merciful,  gracious, 
long-suffering,  abundant  in  goodness  and  truth,  forgiv- 
ing iniquity,  transgression,  and  sin  !  What  a  nature 
hath  my  Father !  He  is  LOVE  !  free  in  it,  unchangeable, 
infinite !  What  a  covenant  between  him  and  Christ, — 
for  all  the  seed,  for  every  one,  wherein  he  undertakes 
all,  and  the  poor  soul  nothing!  The  new  covenant 
•V 


214 


MEMOIR   OF 


is  grace,  to,  or  upon  the  soul,  to  which  it  (the  soul)  is 
passive  and  receptive :  Til  do  away  their  sins ;  III 
write  my  law,  and  Til  put  it  in  their  hearts  ;  they  shall 
never  depart  from  me,  go.  This  commends  the  love  of 
God ;  it's  Christ  dying  for  men  without  strength,  for  men 
whilst  sinners,  whilst  enemies.  And  shall  we  seek  for 
the  root  of  our  comforts  within  us  ?  What  God  hath 
done,  what  He  is  to  us  in  Christ,  this  is  the  root  of  our 
comfort :  in  this  is  stability ;  in  us  is  weakness.  Acts 
of  obedience  are  not  perfect,  and  therefore  yield  not 
perfect  peace.  Faith  as  an  act  yields  it  not,  but  only 
as  it  carries  us  unto  him,  who  is  our  perfect  rest  and 
peace,  in  whom  we  are  accounted  of,  and  received  by  the 
Father,  even  as  Christ  himself!  This  is  our  high  call- 
ing. Rest  we  here,  and  here  only."* 

Dr.  6r.  "  Does  Cromwell  say  that  ?  Bead  it  again. 
It's  what  I've  been  wanting  these  two  hours.  I've  been 
thinking,  0,  if  I  had  not  gone  to  Harrowgate,  or  if  I 
had  not  gone  to  Scarborough,  I  might  have  been  better. 
How  that  suits  me  where  he  writes,  '  Fear  says  if  I  had 
done  this,  and  avoided  that:  but  love  says,  What  a 
Christ  have  I !  What  a  Father  have  I !'" 

To  Mr.  K.  "  I  have  seen  my  own  vileness,  and  sought 
the  Saviour.  /  cannot  tell  the  place  nor  the  time.  But 
I  know  it  proceeds  from  the  goodness  of  God.  Mine  is 

*  Carlyle's  Letters  of  Oliver  Cromwell,  The  Protector,  by  D'Aubigne. 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.D.  215 

a  testimony  which  few  can  give.  The  course  of  my 
reading  has  been  so  curious  and  strange ;  I  have  met 
with  so  many  quibbles  and  objections,  and  my  mind  has 
often  been  in  a  maze  and  confusion." 

Mr.  K.  "  Those  things  are  not  profitable." 

Dr.  G-.  "  No !  I  don't  regret  that ;  it  has  given  me 
a  strength  I  could  not  otherwise  expect.  I  feel  now  on 
so  firm  a  rock,  that  Satan  cannot  possibly  shake  me. 
But  I  am  not  trusting  to  myself.  I  have  been  always  a 
seeker  after  truth,  though  often  bewildered  in  the  inves- 
tigation." 

Mrs.  G.  remarked,  what  a  mercy  it  was  that  he  had 
no  clouds  to  darken,  no  temptations  to  harass  him/ 

Dr.  Gr.  "  The  moment  they  are  suggested  I  dash  them 
away,  and  keep  my  eye  fixed  on  my  Saviour ;  I  find 
him  always  near." 

Mrs.  G-.  "  Then  you  feel  that 

'  Jesus  can  make  a  dying  bed 
Feel  soft  as  downy  pillows  are.'  " 

Dr.  G-.  "  Indeed  I  can !  And  what  a  mercy  to  be 
able  to  enjoy  conversation,  with  my  memory  and  in- 
tellect as  clear  as  ever.  And  now  that  my  pain  has 
subsided,  I  can  enjoy  my  friends.  I  often  expressed  a 
wish  to  die  when  my  sufferings  were  so  intense,  for  I 
had  no  fear.  But  I  see  how  much  better  it  was  that  I 
did  not  die  then.  He  knows  best." 


216  MEMOIR  OF 

Mrs.  Cr.  "You  seem  to  feel  the  Saviour  so  very 
near !" 

Dr.  Cr.  "  Indeed  I  do !  If  I  had  not  him  as  my 
friend,  what  a  dreary  departing  it  would  be ;  but  now  I 
I  am  going  to  a  dear,  dear  friend !" 

Mrs.  Cr*  "You  have  exerted  yourself  to-day  very 
much,  in  speaking  to  every  one ;  but  you  are  so  anxious 
to  preach  Christ.'1 

Dr.  Cr.  "  Indeed  I  am !  And  I  think  and  feel  this 
may  be  my  last  opportunity. 

Mr.  K.  "It  is  delightful  to  see  you  thus.'* 

Dr.  Cr.  "  But  how  delightful  to  feel  thus  !  The  only 
reason  why  I  wish  to  live  is  to  preach  the  gospel.  I 
should  not  be  ashamed  of  Christ  in  public  or  private." 
(To  his  daughter) — "  I  may  live  one  or  two  days  more ; 
but  I  leave  it  with  God,  and  wait  His  will. — I  have  been 
picturing  the  flowers  nodding  over  my  grave, — and  when 
it  is  windy  and  rainy,  you  will  perhaps  think  how  dreary 
it  is  for  me,  but  remember  I  shall  not  feel  that." 

Wednesday,  January  17. — To  the  surprise  of  all, 
Dr.  Gordon  still  survived.  He  expressed  a  wish  to  bid 

farewell  to  Mr. ,  an  elderly  man,  whom  he  had 

known  for  many  years,  and  for  whose  spiritual  welfare 
Dr.  G.  felt  much  solicitude. 

Mr. .  "I  am  very  sorry,  doctor,  to  see  you 

tJo  ill." 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  217 

Dr.  G-.  "I  am  very  well,  and  very  Happy.  But  I 
rest  on  Christ.  When  we  pride  ourselves  on  our  own 
conduct — " 

Mr. .  "  0  doctor !  you  have  always  lived  a 

good  life.  Everybody  respects  you." 

Dr.  #.  "But  I  must  not  think  of  myself;  all  the 
merits  I  have  must  be  thrown  aside.  You  don't  under- 
stand that.  I  once  did  not." 

Mr. .  "  I  know  that  in  these  moments  religion 

is  everything,  though  I  cannot  see  just  as  you.  I  know 
I  must  die ;  and  am  sensible  I  shall  live  again.  That 
future  state  is  a  serious  consideration.  But  some  think 
there  will  be  annihilation." 

Dr.  Gr.  "So  dreadful  do  I  think  annihilation  that  I 
would  rather  live  in  pain  than  not  live  at  all.  There  is 
nothing  more  dreadful.  But  I  have  a  better  hope. 
It  is  beyond  human  reason — it  comes  without  human 
reason." 

Mr. .  "  I  am  sensible  that  it  must  be  happy  to 

think  so.  I  have  been  on  what  I  thought  my  deathbed, 
as  you  are,  and  though  I  don't  pride  myself,  I  thought 
there  was  nothing  I  ever  did  that  I  wished  I  had  not 
done.  I  never  hurt  man  nor  woman,  and  if  that  were 
the  last  of  me,  I  could  die  comfortable.  But,  then, 
there  was  the  thought  of  rising  again.  Ah !  I  may  die 
easy  enough,  but  there's  some  chance  of  being  called 
•  19 


218  MEMOIR   OF 

over  to  account,  and  then  I  was  bothered ;  for  I  thought 
with  Shakspeare,  that  if  dying  was  a  sleep,  I  might 
have  awful  dreams.  But  I  can't  do  as  some  people, 
drop  down  on  my  knees  and  say,  4  God  be  merciful.'  ' 

Dr.  6r.  "  You  said  you  thought  you  had  never  in- 
jured any  one.  Why,  my  dear  fellow,  there  was  not  a 
day,  when  I  analyzed  my  life,  that  I  had  not  done, 
spoken,  or  thought  evil." 

Mr. .  "  I  reconciled  myself  by  thinking,  that 

if  I  had  done  evil,  I  did  not  know  it,  and  therefore 
there  was  no  guilt." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  There  is  a  right  line  and  a  wrong,  which 
does  not  depend  on  you.  You  do  not  make  the  straight 
line." 

Mr. .  "  It's  awkward  when  there  are  two  roads, 

and  you  don't  know  which  to  take." 

Dr.  Cr.  "  There  is  only  one  way.  A  man  shows  me 
a  straight  line ;  I  say  it  is  not  straight.  My  knowledge 
of  geometry  proves  there  is  only  one  straight  line.  So 
there  is  only  one  circle,  right  or  wrong.  So  I  act, 
kindly  or  unkindly.  If  I  think  an  evil  thought  of  a 
man,  I  act  unkindly.  Human  beings  cannot  act  per- 
fectly; but  perfection  ought  to  be  my  standard;  and 
when  God  requires  it,  and  I  don't  come  up  to  it,  what 
am  I  to  do  ?  who  is  to  make  up  my  deficiencies  ?  For 
if  one  man  says  he  only  spoke  one  unkind  word,  another 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  219 

may  say  he  only  spoke  two,  so  that  you  may  have  a 
world  of  quarrelling." 

Mr. .  "  "Well,  it  is  a  consolation  to  see  a  man, 

as  I  never  have  hefore,  say  he  dies  in  hopes  of  living 
again.  I  always  felt  miserable  at  such  scenes." 

Dr.  G-.  "Why?" 

Mr. .  "  I  thought  they  were  dying  without  hope. 

One  was  a  good  man,  as  a  member  of  society ;  he  said — 
'  To-morrow  all  will  be  over  with  me,  all  over,  my  boy, 
all  over,  dead  and  gone,  that's  all  that  can  be  said  of 
me.'  Yet  he  was  a  man  of  very  strong  mind." 

Dr.  Q-.  "  Did  you  ever  see  a  locomotive  engine  ?" 

Mr. .  "Yes." 

Dr.  G-.  "  Do  you  think  it  moves  ?" 

Mr. .  "Yes." 

Dr.  6r.  "I  can  prove  that  it  does  not,  and  I  defy 
you  to  disprove  my  argument." 

Mr. .  "  Well,  but  something  moves." 

Dr.  6r.  "  It  is  a  delusion.  It  is  not  a  reality.  May 
you  not  be  deceived  ?  A  body  only  occupies  a  space 
equal  to  itself. 

Mr. .  "Well?" 

Dr.  6r.  "  Get  that  into  your  head." 

Mr. .  "I  see  your  meaning." 

Dr.  Gr.  "A  body  cannot  move  where  it  is  not.  It 
is  stationary  where  it  is,  and  cannot  move  where-  it  is 
aot,  therefore  it  cannot  move  at  all." 


220  MEMOIR   OF 

Mr. .  "  Ah !  this  is  good  argument,  and  sound 

too." 

Dr.  Cr.  "  This  argument  was  employed  three  thou- 
sand years  ago,  and  is  unrefuted  yet.  Nevertheless  this 
man  says  there  is  nothing  after  death!  Is  this  man 
learned  ?" 

Mr. .  "  In  some  things." 

Dr.  Cr.  "  Did  you  ever  see  a  straight  line  ?" 

Mr. .  "Yes." 

Dr.  Cr.  "If  you  will  go  to  Cambridge,  you  will  find 
men  who  will  hail  you  as  the  greatest  discoverer  of  the 
age.  Have  you  ever  seen  a  circle  ?" 

Mr. .  "  Yes,  I've  seen  what  was  called  a  circle, 

and  I  thought  it  was." 

Dr.  Cr.  "Don't  you  see  how  ignorant  men  are? 
Were  you  to  calculate  the  radii  of  a  circle  according  to 
those  you  draw,  what  imperfect  radii  would  they  be  ? 
Some  would  be  shorter  than  others." 

Mr. .  "  But  how  can  you  prove  there  is  no 

straight  line?" 

Dr.  Cr.  "Easily.  Draw  one,  and  take  a  micro- 
scope." 

Mr. .  "Yes ;  there  will  be  ins  and  outs." 

Dr.  Cr.  "  Such  men  should  think  more." 

Mr. .  "  With  all  our  thinking,  we  are  very  ig- 
norant. You  are  a  very  clever  man,  doctor,  quite  a 
philosopher;  but  the  best  of  us  know  very  little." 


WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  221 

Dr.  Gr.  "Nothing!  and  it  is  that  utter  ignorance 
which  gives  me  that  blessedness  now.  All  my  reason- 
ing brings  me  to  this — 'I must  rest  on  Christ.' ' 

Mr. .  "  Well,  I  think  him  the  best  person  on 

whom  we  can  rest;  I  always  did.  It's  a  pleasure  to 
hear  you  talk,  for  it's  a  very  uncommon  thing  to  be  very 
strong  in  opinion  while  very  weak  in  body.  To  your 
family  it  must  be  very  delightful  to  see  you  like  this. 
I  would  give  worlds  to  be  the  remainder  of  my  life  in 
the  same  state  of  mind." 

Thursday,  18th. — On  waking,  he  said,  "  I've  had  a 
very  happy  night;  brighter  visions  than  ever  of  the 
happy  land."  His  nurse  said,  "  I  am  full  of  fear  of  not 
continuing  faithful."  He  replied,  "  There  is  nothing  to 
fear,  if  you  keep  close  to  Jesus.  I'll  tell  you  what  I  did, 
I  went  fervently  to  him,  and  took  all  my  sins  and  cares, 
my  heart  full,  and  left  all  at  the  cross,  and  sweet  peace 
followed.  It's  such  love !  But  remember,  constant 
watching  is  necessary.  Thus  go  to  Christ,  and  you 
have  nothing  else  to  do.  It  is  all  done  for  you.  0  what 
a  night  I've  had !  Such  happiness  !  I  cannot  describe 
it.  When  I  fall  asleep,  and  when  I  awake,  it's  always 
there.  How  wonderful !" 

Friday,  19th. — Baxter's  "Last  work  of  a  Believer" 
was  one  of  his  favourite  books.  The  following  sentence 
struck  his  mind :  "Did  Christ  himself  on  the  cross  com- 
mend his  spirit  into  his  Father's  hands,  and  will  he  not 
19* 


222  MEMOIR   OF 

receive  thy  spirit,  when  thou  at  death  commendest  it  to 
him?" 

In  conversation,  he  said,  "  I  see  where  Christians  are 
wrong.  We  do  not  make  a  companion  of  God.  Wfc  should 
treat  him  more  as  a  friend,  but  not  as  a  distant  friend, 
but  as  always  near,  close  to  us,  so  that  we  are  never 
alone,  but  continually  in  his  company.  It  is  this  having 
God  with  me  as  my  companion,  which  has  made  me  so 
happy.  I  dislike  to  sleep,  because  I  lose  the  enjoy- 
ment. Oh,  to  think  that  I  could  ever  have  had  a  care 
when  there  was  a  God  in  the  world  !  How  wonderful ! 
How  wrong  I  have  been !  '  Behold  the  lilies  of  the 
field,  how  they  grow,  they  toil  not,  neither  do  they  spin ; 
and  yet  I  say  unto  you,  that  even  Solomon  in  all  his 
glory,  was  not  arranged  like  one  of  these.  Wherefore, 
if  God  so  clothe  the  grass  of  the  field,  which  to-day  is, 
and  to-morrow  is  cast  into  the  oven,  shall  he  not  much 
more  clothe  you,  0  ye  of  little  faith!'  Ah!  I  did  not 
understand  that  before ;  but  I  do  now.  How  false  are 
the  judgments  of  the  world !  Many  would  pity  me. 
They  don't  know  how  happy  I  am." 

Saturday,  20th. — The  evening  of  this  day  was  felt 
by  all  to  be  a  peculiarly  interesting  season,  as  it  recalled 
the  alarming  seizure  of  the  preceding  week,  and  the 
unexpected  mercies  his  friends  had  enjoyed  in  such 
delightful  intercourse  with  their  beloved  relative,  during 
the  seven  days  he  had  been  spared  to  them.  In  refer- 


WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  223 

ence  to  this,  he  said,  "  I  thought  I  should  have  been 
taken  from  you.  We  have  had  many  mercies.  What 
a  glorious  week  it  has  been  !  the  happiest  I  ever  spent. 
The  world  cannot  comprehend  it.  I  now  understand 
the  meaning  of  that  passage,  '  Eye  hath  not  seen,  nor 
ear  heard,  neither  have  entered  into  the  heart  of  man, 
the  things  which  God  hath  prepared  for  them  that  love 
him,  but  Gf-od  hath  revealed  them  unto  us  by  his  spirit." 


CHAPTER  II. 

FROM  SUNDAY,  JANUARY  21,  TO  SUNDAY,  JANUARY  28. 

NOTWITHSTANDING  the  occasional  rallyings 
which  took  place,  it  was  evident  that  disease  was 
steadily  advancing ;  but  while  his  little  remaining 
strength  became  gradually  less,  and  the  outer  man  was 
perishing,  it  was  delightful  to  witness  how  the  "  inner 
man  was  renewed  day  by  day." 

He  wondered  why  Christians  were  not  always  rejoic- 
ing. He  said,  "  To  believe  that  God  loves  us,  and 
wishes  us  to  love  Him,  and  does  everything  to  make  us 
love  Him,  to  regard  Him  as  a  Friend,  a  Brother,  a 
Father,  this  makes  us  happy.  As  to  doubts  and  fears,  I 
could  not  have  any.  I  might  have  many,  if  I  looked  to 


224  MEMOIR   OF 

myself ;  but  this  is  impossible,  if  I  look  to  my  Saviour. 
I  have  often  been  surprised  that  Christians  seemed  to  be 
made  so  little  happy  by  their  religion.  The  reason  is, 
they  have  looked  for  happiness  to  what  is  in  themselves, 
instead  of  to  what  is  in  Christ.  And  looking  to  Him  is 
the  best  source  of  holy  living." 

Being  told  that  he  looked  low  and  dull,  he  said,  "  I 
don't/ee?  so.  I  am  weak,  but  perfectly  happy."  About 
midnight,  waking,  very  faint,  after  a  short  sleep,  his 
wife,  children,  and  niece  being  at  his  bedside,  he  said, 
"  I  think  I  am  sinking.  I  feel  the  powers  of  nature 
giving  way."  Then  looking  most  affectionately  at  each, 
he  added — "  I  think  I've  said  all  I  wish  to  say."  Then, 
after  a  pause — "  I'm  so  glad  they  have  made  the  ceme- 
tery a  garden  for  my  body  to  rest  in,  with  all  the 
beautiful  flowers  about."  The  conversation  then  turned 
on  the  meaning  of  the  word  cemetery  (xot^^ptov,  sleep- 
ing place),  and  the  application  of  this  term  in  the  New 
Testament  to  the  Christian's  death :  "  Our  friend  Laza- 
rus sleepethj  but  I  go  to  awake  him  out  of  sleep."  "  Them 
also  who  sleep  in  Jesus,  will  God  bring  with  him."  In 
reference  to  his  approaching  dissolution  it  was  observed 
— "  This  is  what  we  must  all  come  to."  He  responded 
emphatically,  "Must  all  come  to!  Christians  should 
look  forward  to  it  with  joy."  It  was  remarked  that 
some  persons  dreaded  death  very  much,  because  they 
must  go  forth  alone  into  the  eternal  world,  with  none  of 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  225 

their  friends  to  accompany  and  cheer  them.  Dr.  G. 
"  Ah !  but  I  shall  not  be  alone ;  Christ  is  my  companion, 
my  friend,  my  brother !  He  accompanies  me  on  my 
journey  !  How  wonderful  to  receive  me  there,  one  who 
has  so  rebelled  against  him !" 

Monday,  January  22. — "  I  have  had  such  a  peaceful 
night.  I  marvel  at  myself,  that  when  in  health  I  should 
have  been  so  anxious  about  worldly  things,  and  thought 
so  little  of  what  was  to  be  had  so  superior.  0,  blind, 
blind,  blind !  Make  Grod  your  friend,  and  don't  look 
on  him  as  a  Gf-od  afar  off — but  as  loving  you  and  deter- 
mining that  you  shall  be  saved.  I  think  he  has  almost 
gone  out  of  Ms  way  to  save  me  !  He  has  given  me  blow 
after  blow,  and  his  means  have  been  so  especially  adapted 
to  my  case !" 

To  R.  and  V.  "The  last  week  has  been  happier 
than  I  could  have  conceived.  We  must  leave  reasoning. 
I  have  read  all  books  on  the  subject,  ancient  and  modern. 
You  may  tell  the  men  who  pride  themselves  on  their 
learning,  that  it's  all  nothing.  We  must  come  simply  to 
Christ.  Christians  look  too  much  to  themselves.  Look 
to  him,  and  there's  no  fear.  We  must  not  think  of  God 
as  a  great  Being  to  be  gone  to  sometimes,  but  make  him 
a  companion.  He  wishes  it.  He  has  done  everything 
to  bring  sinners  to  him.  But  it  is  beyond  reason. 
There's  a  better  evidence  than  argument.  It  is  HERE, 
No  one  could  shake  my  belief." 


226  MEMOIR   OF 

Of  eternity,  lie  said,  "All  things  are  incomprehen- 
sible, yet  we  presume  about  religion.  We  know  not 
what  an  infinitesimal  atom  of  matter  is.  We  can  con- 
ceive of  its  infinite  division,  and  yet  every  particle  of 
matter  must  have  an  upper  and  an  under  side.  Neither 
do  we  understand  matter  in  its  larger  bulks — the  im- 
mense globes — and  so  numerous !  We  know  not  the 
end  of  space  nor  the  end  of  time.  We  know  NOTHING. 
We  see  with  a  very  contracted  view,  and  yet  we  reason ! 
We  must  come  to  the  BIBLE  as  little  children  ;  then  we 
shall  know  !  We  must  trust  as  little  children ;  then  we 
shall  not  live  in  dread.  How  strange  that  Christians 
should  be "  afraid  of  diseases,  accidents  by  railway,  and 
such  things,  when  God  is  always  with  them !" 

Tuesday,  January  23. — Though  greatly  enfeebled, 
and  scarcely  able  to  whisper,  he  exerted  himself  to 
speak  to  the  numerous  visiters  who  came  to  see  him. 

R.  "We  often  talk  of  you." 

Dr.  a.  "  Talk  of  the  goodness  of  God  to  me." 

R.  " How  are  we  to  obtain  such  strong  faith?" 

Dr.  Cr.  "It  is  here — we  must  become  as  children. 
I  did  not  understand  this  once.  Only  God  could  make 
me  understand  it.  My  affliction  has  been  sent  for  this. 
But,  how  I  murmured !  I've  been  a  stubborn  child !  I 
wonder  that  Christians  are  not  always  happy." 

JV.  "  Our  faith  is  so  weak,  and,  as  you  say,  we  do 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  227 

not  make  a  companion  of  God.     But  in  heaven  He  will 
be  always  near  us." 

Dr.  Cr.  "  He  is  always  near  us  now.  Believe  this, 
and  it  will  make  you  happy." 

E.  "  I  wish  I  had  such  faith  !" 

Dr.  6r.  "  The  way  is,  think  nothing  about  yourself. 
Give  yourself  to  him  entirely;  it  is  what  he  wishes. 
Then  you  will  have  perfect  peace.  But  we  must  yield 
ourselves  as  children,  and  not  reason.  I  have  sent  mes- 
sages to  my  friends,  not  to  trust  in  themselves  any 
longer.  I  have  read,  and  thought,  and  trusted  to  human 
wisdom,  but  oh,  it  is  very  foolish.  I  am  thankful  I  did 
not  first  know  this  in  the  extremity  of  my  weakness. 
It  has  been  weeks — weeks  !  At  first,  I  rebelled  at  the 
affliction.  0,  the  blindness !  I  did  not  see  what  it 
was  for." 

Wednesday,  January  24. — To  W.  L.  "I  wonder 
whether,  in  case  I  were  to  live,  these  happy  views  would 
continue?  I  don't  understand  why  they  should  not. 
God  is  my  friend.  And  to  think  Christians  should  be 
afraid  of  accidents  with  such  a  friend !  I  used  to  be 
astonished  at  the  great  affection  some  people  felt  for 
ministers  and  others  who  had  been  of  use  in  their  con- 
version. I'm  not  surprised  now.  I  feel  so  much  more 
love  to  all  my  friends.  You've  been  helpers  to  me  in 
many  ways." 


228  MEMOIR   OF 

He  was  asked  whether  they  had  done  right  in  not 
more  personally  urging  the  subject  of  religion  upon  him. 

Dr.  6r.  "You  have  done  right.  Mine  was  a  pecu- 
liar disposition.  Direct  reference  would  have  done 
harm.  You  have  known  my  disposition,  and  acted 
suitably  to  it." 

Thursday,  25th. — After  a  disturbed  night  he  was 
much  exhausted ;  this  he  regretted,  as  "  interrupting  his 
happy  thoughts."  He  said,  "  I'm  farther  from  earth 
and  nearer  to  heaven.  What  joy  I  have  had  !  No  one 
can  describe  it !  I  have  often  told  you  when  in  great 
pain,  that  I  could  not  have  conceived  that  any  human 
being  could  suffer  so  much.  I  am  sure  I  may  now  say, 
I  could  not  conceive  any  human  being  could  enjoy 
so  much !  And  to  compare  these  pleasures  with  the 
pleasures  of  the  world  !  0  how  foolish  !  I  have  seen  all 
grades  of  life,  but  I  never  found  full  satisfaction,  because 
I  had  not  got  the  pearl.  1  honoured  Christianity,  think- 
ing it  a  great  and  noble  thing,  but  I  did  not  feel  it. 
What  a  difference  !  But  this  is  not  to  be  had  by  reason- 
ing. How  true  that  saying  is,  '  Except  ye  become  as 
little  children,  ye  cannot  enter  the  kingdom  of  heaven.' 
But  directly  we  come  as  little  children,  we  obtain  every- 
thing we  need.  What  a  proof  of  its  truth,  that  it  can 
produce  such  a  change  and  give  me  such  feelings  I  How 
its  Author  must  have  known  the  heart !  Is  this  not  the 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D  229 

lest  proof  that  it  is  from  O-od  ?     How  could  man  have 
invented  a  system  which  could  do  such  things  ?" 

To  his  Nephew.  "  My  boy,  I  love  you  dearly :  seek 
Christ  early.  There's  no  happiness  in  anything  else. 
Don't  care  about  argumentative  books  on  religion.  Your 
poor  uncle  Gordon  has  been  taken  up  with  controversy 
all  his  life,  and  it  won't  do,  there's  nothing  in  it.  Take 
the  Scriptures  as  they  are,  and  any  simple  religious 
book  you  like ;  the  simpler  the  better." 

A  poor  woman  stopped  at  the  door  to  ask  after  him ; 
she  was  very  poor, — almost  a  beggar. 

'  Dr.  6r.  "  I  am  very  much  obliged  to  her.  I  like  to 
be  remembered  by  the  poor  much  better  than  by  the 
rich.  I  love  my  rich  friends,  and  am  very  grateful  for 
their  kind  attentions,  but  the  poor  are  my  flock.  I  never 
courted  the  rich.  Love  the  poor.  BE  GREAT  AND  SEEK 

LITTLE    THINGS:     DON'T    BE    LITTLE    AND    SEEK    GREAT 
THINGS." 

Referring  to  the  remark,  that  he  had  been  too  much 
taken  up  with  controversy,  he  was  asked  whether  his 
present  feelings  in  religion  had  altered  his  views  respect- 
ing the  political  engagements  of  his  former  life,  and 
whether  by  the  term  controversy  he  alluded  to  those 
occupations.  He  answered,  "  Certainly  not ;  only  to 
controversy  on  the  truth  of  religion,  instead  of  receiving 
it  as  a  child.  Were  I  to  recover  I  should  do  as  I  have 
done  in  those  respects,  only  more  enthusiastically  than 
20 


230  MEMOIR   OF 

ever,  as  in  the  cause  of  truth  and  human  happiness.  I 
hope  nothing  I  have  said  can  give  any  other  impression." 
This  is  very  important,  as  increasing  the  strength  of  his 
religious  testimony,  which  would  have  been  less  valuable, 
had  all  his  conclusions  on  other  topics  been  shaken.  It 
might  have  been  said  that  bodily  debility  had  affected 
his  mind,  that  he  thought  morbidly  on  every  point,  and, 
therefore,  that  little  could  be  deduced  from  the  confes- 
sions he  made  of  a  religious  nature.  But  the  perfect 
composure  he  maintained  thoughout  his  illness,  the  calm- 
ness with  which  he  always  spoke,  the  deep  conviction  he 
retained  of  the  truth  of  those  principles  he  had  so  long 
studied  and  advocated,  this  made  the  more  emphatic 
the  striking  testimony  he  bore  to  the  great  truths  of  the 
gospel,  and  to  the  necessity  of  receiving  it  as  a  little 
child.  Even  to  within  a  few  hours  of  his  death,  incidents 
were  occurring  which  brought  out  the  characteristic  fea- 
tures of  his  mind,  and  showed  them  to  be  illumined  by 
exalted  devotion,  but  not  changed. 

Friday,  26th. — On  awaking  in  considerable  pain,  he 
said, — "  Pray  for  me  that  God  may  soon  release  me.  It 
is  no  doubt  the  best  that  I  should  remain  a  little,  but  I 
hope  it  won't  be  long."  Then  observing  that  it  was  a 
bright  sunny  morning,  he  said,  "  How  glad  I  shall  be  to 
lie  in  that  beautiful  cemetery  !  How  lovely  it  must  be 
there  this  morning !" 

Hearing  some  passages  from  Dr.  Hope's  life  read,  he 


WILLIAM   GORDON,   M.  D.  231 

said — "  This  is  as  if  written  for  me  !  As  Dr.  Hope  says, 
'  there  is  peace  in  Christ  if  we  go  to  him  at  once,  and 
tumble  down  our  sins  before  him.'  Here  I  am,  a  poor, 
unworthy,  wicked  creature,  not  deserving  of  being  looked 
at  by  the  Saviour,  but  I  can  go  as  I  am." 

To  Mrs.  G.  "What  a  happy  life  we  have  spent 
together !  You  will  think  of  the  many  pleasant  talks  we 
have  had  over  the  fire  alone.  And  how  we've  enjoyed 
our  little  excursions  together !  But  we  are  going  the 
same  way,  and  shall  meet  again.  It's  only  a  separation 
for  a  short  time.  When  .you  visit  my  tomb,  don't  do  it 
with  grief.  Perhaps  my  spirit  may  be  permitted  to  be 
hovering  around  you ;  and  remember  how  happy  I  shall 
be.  What  a  mercy  to  think  that  I  and  those  I  most  love 
are  all-  going  the  right  way.  I  often  picture  heaven  to 
myself,  but  I  can't  describe  it.  Then  I  shall  have  no 
more  toil,  no  anxiety,  no  pain,  no  sin !  Oh,  that  sin  ! 
What  would  have  become  of  me  now,  if  I  had  to  appear 
before  God  in  my  own  righteousness,  which  is  indeed 
but  filthy  rags !  But  I  shall  be  clothed  in  Christ's 
righteousness !  I  have  been  thinking  of  heaven,  won- 
dering who  will  admit  us,  and  introduce  us.  But  it  will 
be  a  beautiful  land  !  0,  what  a  glorious  land !" 

Saturday;  27th.—"  I  feel  I  am  getting  worse  more 
rapidly  than  you  imagine.  My  eyes  are  getting  dim, 
and  my  brain  shakes.  I  should  wish  none  of  you  to  be 


232  MEMOIR   OF 

out  of  the  way.  Let  me  see  any  who  call,  for  my  end 
is  certain,  and  I  wish  to  see  my  friends  to  the  last.  And 
don't  be  afraid  of  waking  me ;  my  time  cannot  be  long, 
and  I  wish  to  enjoy  your  conversation  while  I  can." 

To  Mr.  S.,  a  temperance  missionary.  "  I  took  wine 
for  a  few  days,  as  it  was  urged  on  me.  I  complied  for 
the  satisfaction  of  my  friends-.  I  wished  to  perform  my 
duty.  But  it  did  me  great  injury- — my  testimony  is 
against  it — it  always  was — but  my  friends  would  not 
have  been  contented,  and  I  now  feel  more  .satisfaction 
myself.  I  am  perfectly  happy — anxious  to  go  to  that 
blessed  country." 

It  being  remarked  that  he  would  do  very  badly  now 
without  Christ,  he  replied,  "  0  !  I  could  not  do  at  all.  I 
strip  off  my  own  doings  and  cast  them  down  there,  all  in 
a  heap.  I  see  the  heap  just  before  me,  and  I  see  Jesus 
there  too — who  has  accepted  me.  Death  is  rather  a 
herald  of  good  than  of  evil.  In  most  subjects  when  I 
have  seen  a  thing  once,  I  have  no  more  misgivings.  But 
I  feel  this  is  such  great  truth — I  cannot  see  why  Chris- 
tians should  have  doubts ;  Christ  comes  to  us,  seeks  us, 
runs  after  us,  sends  afflictions  to  bring  us  to  him,  and 
why  should  we  doubt?  I  have  been  asking  my  dear 
wife  whether  I  properly  understand  the  subject,  as  I 
have  no  doubts,  and  Christians  generally  seem  to  have 
so  many.  I  could  not  doubt.  It's  so  plain.  Can  men 
be  so  anxious  to  be  exalted  to  the  presence  of  royalty, 


WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  233 

when  we  may  approach  the  majesty  of  Heaven !  0 ! 
it's  abject !  it's  wretched !  And  we  may  have  this 
honour  even  on  earth  !  To  think  that  I  should  ever  have 
felt  flattered,  had  I  been  sent  for  to  the  palace,  when  I 
might  have  enjoyed  the  presence  of  Deity  himself! 
when  I  might  have  had  hourly  intercourse  with  him.  Was 
there  ever  such  an  imperfect  creature !  All  the  consi- 
derations of  my  own  mind,  air  the  analysis  I  can  make 
of  it,  proves  the  truth  of  Christianity.  It  so  provides 
for  all  the  wants  of  the  soul.  If  I  were  to  begin  to 
reason,  I  could  get  into  a  maze,  but  I  am  told  to  come 
as  a  little  child,  and  then  I  find  perfect  peace.  Do  you 
think  man  could  have  made  such  a  system  ?  Once  re- 
ceive it  into  the  heart,  and  you  have  enough  evidence 
there" 

Having  prayed  together  around  his  bed,  and  his 
favourite  twenty-third  Psalm  having  been  chanted  by  his 
request,  with  the  hymns  "  Rock  of  Ages,"  and  "  There 
is  a  Happy  Land,"  conversation  was  resumed,  when  he 
said,  "  Instead  of  my  own  sinful  deeds,  I  rely  on  Christ. 
How  this  would  purify  my  deeds  themselves  were  I  going 
to  live  ! — a  thing  I  never  saw  before.  I  cannot  tell  what 
Satan  might  do,  but  I  feel  my  faith  such,  that  I  could  not 
do  a  thing  contrary  to  the  will  of  God.  It  would  so  shock 
me,  that  I  think  I  could  not  exist  under  it.  I  should  wish 
to  be  like  Christ  himself.  Thus  faith  and  good  works 
become  united.  You  may  be  sure  I  have  been  taught 
20* 


234  MEMOIR   OF 

this  in  a  way  extraordinary.     It  seems  all  so  clear  to 
me." 

It  was  remarked,  that  Christians  do  not  always  see 
these  truths  as  clearly  as  he  then  did.  He  replied, 
"  Because  we  begin  to  argue  and  cavil ;  that's  where  it 
is.  We  are  not  as  little  children."  It  was  observed, 
that  if  he  recovered,  he  would  find  Satan,  the  flesh, 
and  the  world  to  contend  against,  and  would  have  to 
fight.  He  replied,  "  Yes,  but  I  could  fight.  0,  I  feel 
what  strength  that  good  Saviour  has  given  me."  Being 
asked  if  he  felt  the  least  fear  of  dying,  he  replied,  "  I 
meet  death  as  a  friend.  He  will  take  me  to  that  Saviour 
who  has  been  so  good  to  me.  I  feel  as  if  I  could  stand 
up,  to-morrow,  in  the  market-place,  and  proclaim  in  a 
voice  of  thunder,  to  all  the  town,  what  I  feel.  How  men 
can  keep  away  from  religion,  or,  when  once  they  have 
faith  in  Christ,  do  what  is  against  His  will,  or  how  they 
can  be  unhappy,  when  God  is  their  friend,  I  don't  know ; 
but  to  me,  at  present,  it  would  seem  impossible.  I 
wonder  how  Christians  can  make  a  trouble  of  anything. 
But  oh,  the  pride  of  the  world,  seeking  after  great 
things ;  if  I  could  see  God  as  my  friend,  how  great 
should  I  feel  above  all  the  world  !  0,  what  sweet  con- 
verse this  is,  to  talk  of  the  goodness  of  God,  and  to  me, 
so  undeserving !  There  is  never  any  abatement  of  it. 
It's  love  throughout !" 


WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  235 


CHAPTER  IV. 

FROM  SUNDAY,  JANUARY  28,  TO  SUNDAY,  FEBRUARY  4. 

ON  awaking,  Dr.  G.  said,  "I  have  been  thinking  of 
God,  as  a  shepherd.  The  shepherd  sends  his  dog, 
when  a  sheep  has  wandered  from  the  fold,  to  bark  at, 
and  frighten,  and  sometimes  to  bite  the  wanderer,  in  order 
to  bring  it  back.  So,  afflictions  and  pains  are  the  dogs 
which  our  Shepherd  sends  to  bring  us  back  to  Him. 
Some  of  us  are  stubborn  sheep.  I  was  one  of  these,  and 
the  dog  had  to  lite  me ;  but  the  barking  and  biting  are 
to.  do  us  good,  not  harm,  and  to  bring  us  to  the  Shep- 
herd !" 

Rev.  Dr.  Dobbin,  called  to  bid  him  farewell. 

Dr.  6r.  "  This  affliction  was  all  for  my  good,  for  my 
happiness." 

Dr.  D.  "  God  sends  afflictions  that  we  may  remem- 
ber Him/' 

Dr.  €r.  "  Not  only  that  we  may  remember  Him,  but 
that  we  may  have  joy.  I  am  a  miracle — an  example  of 
a  marvellous  interposition  of  God.  A  short  illness 
would  not  have  been  enough.  He  sawr  I  needed  all  this ; 
and  oh  !  the  blessing  that  has  attended  it !" 

Dr.  D.  "  More  seems  necessary  to  be  done  for  edu- 


236  MEMOIR  OF 

cated  men  than  for  others.  They  have  pride  of  intel- 
lect and  of  heart  to  be  subdued.  But  there's  only  one 
way." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  Only  one !  I  trusted  too  much  to  human 
learning ;  but  when  I  saw  how  to  get  this  by  coming  as 
a  little  child,  it  burst  on  me  in  a  way  I  cannot  describe. 
But  man  could  not  have  taught  me  this.  It  was  the 
HOLY  SPIRIT  OF  GRACE.  Then  it  all  rushed  upon  my 
view  at  once.  I  saw  Christ  my  Saviour .;  stripped  off 
my  filthy  deeds,  went  to  the  foot  of  the  cross,  and 
Christ  presented  me  to  God." 

Dr.  D.  "  This  is  the  best  wisdom." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  It  is  the  only  way.  I  could  laugh  to  scorn 
the  man  who  rests  in  his  learning." 

Dr.  D.  "  The  true  wisdom  is  in  coming  to  Christ. 
This  is  joy." 

Dr.  Gr.  "And  power  and  majesty." 

Dr.  D.  "  The  people  of  God  sometimes  feel  the  truth 
of  what  some  may  think  too  strongly  expressed  by  Dr. 
Watts,— 

The  opening  heavens  around  me  shine 

With  beams  of  sacred  bliss, 
While  Jesus  shows  His  heart  is  mine, 
And  whispers,  I  am  His. 

You  feel  this?" 

Dr.  Gr.  "  Yes,  in  the  most  exquisite  way." 
Dr.  D.  "  It  is  God  who  began  this  work." 


••         WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  237 

Dr.  Gf.  "  I  could  believe  no  other.-  The  result 
proves  it.  I  should  desire  no  stronger  proof  of  Christi- 
anity than  my  own  case.  It  is  so  adapted  to  me.  Not 
that  it  escaped  my  investigation  before.  It  was  my 
daily  study.  But  I  trusted  too  much  to  human  learning. 
But,  oh !  I  am  safely  landed  at  last,  and  in  a  manner  to 
me  most  extraordinary.  I  have  attended  in  many  sick 
rooms,  and  heard  of  doubt  and  fears,  but  I  have  no  such 
things." 

On  taking  leave  of  Dr.  D.,  he  requested  him  to  con- 
duct the  funeral  service. 

In  conversation  with  Rev.  J.  S.,  Dr.  G.  said,  "As  to 
seeking  to  be  religious,  I  have  always  been  doing  that ; 
but  I  did  not  seek  in  the  right  way.  It  must  be  heart, 
not  head.  Now  I  feel  that  l  the  Lord  is  my  Shepherd.' 
I  may  be  thought  to  use  strong  terms,  but  during  my 
whole  illness  my  head  has  been  as  clear  as  at  any  former 
period,  and  I  have  taken  no  opiates." 

Dr.  G.  having  expressed  a  desire  to  preach,  if  his 
recovery  were  possible,  it  was  suggested  to  him,  as  that 
could  not  be,  that  the  occasion  of  his  funeral  would 
furnish  a  favourable  opportunity  to  give  a  public  testi- 
mony ;  it  was  accordingly  proposed  to  commit  to  paper 
whatever  he  might  wish  for  this  purpose.  He  replied. 
"  Oh !  I  cannot  find  words  sufficient.  I  am  afraid  I 
cannot  convey  the  thing  sufficiently.  I  should  be  doing 
injustice  to  my  Saviour."  After  a  brief  pause,  he  said> 


238  MEMOIR  OP 

solemnly  and  emphatically, — "All  human  learning  is 
of  no  avail.  Reason  must  be  put  out  of  the  question. 
I  reasoned,  and  debated,  and  investigated,  but  I  found 
no  peace  until  I  came  to  the  gospel  as  a  little  child  ;  till 
I  received  it  as  a  babe.  Then  such  a  light  was  shed 
abroad  in  my  heart,  that  I  saw  the  whole  scheme  at  once, 
and  I  found  pleasure  the  most  indescribable.  I  saw 
there  was  no  good  deed  in  myself.  Though  I  had  spent 
hours  in  examining  my  conduct,  1  found  nothing  I  had 
done  would  give  me  real  satisfaction.  It  was  always 
mixed  up  with  something  selfish.  But  when  I  came  to 
the  gospel  as  a  child,  the  Holy  Spirit  seemed  to  fill  my 
heart.  I  then  saw  my  selfishness  in  all  its  vivid  deform- 
ity, and  I  found  there  was  acceptance  with  God,  and  no 
happiness,  except  through  the  Blessed  Redeemer.  1 
stripped  off  all  my  own  deeds — threw  them  aside — went 
to  Him  naked — He  received  me  as  He  promised  He 
would,  and  presented  me  to  the  Father.  I  then  felt  joy 
unspeakable,  and  all  fear  of  death  at  once  vanished." 

The  thoughtful  reader  will  place  the  legitimate  inter- 
pretation on  the  expression,  "  Reason  must  be  put  out 
of  the  question."  Similar  remarks  occur  throughout 
the  volume.  Dr.  Gordon  did  not,  of  course,  mean  that 
reason  and  revelation  were  not  in  harmony,  or  that  the 
intellect  was  not  to  be  exercised  on  religion.  He  had 
throughout  life  read  largely  and  thought  deeply  on  the 
subject.  His  inquiries  had  only  confirmed  his  con  vie- 


WILLIAM   GORDON,  M.  D.  239 

tion,  that  revelation  was  in  harmony  with  all  truth.  He 
would  have  been  the  last  to  discourage  the  freest,  fullest 
scrutiny.  His  meaning,  though  expressed  in  the  strong 
and  unguarded  terms  of  a  man  who  feels  deeply,  was 
this:  that  all  the  efforts  of  reason  are  unavailing  to 
produce  that  spiritual  change  of  which  the  Holy  Ghost 
is  the  author,  and  without  which  the  gospel  cannot  be 
experimentally  known.  He  was  conscious  of  an  influ- 
ence totally  distinct  from  the  result  of  a  merely  intel- 
lectual process.  He  had  "become  a  new  creature." 

In  the  evening  he  partook  of  the  Lord's  Supper. 
The  circumstance  of  its  being  his  first  participation  in 
this  sacred  ordinance,  and,  as  we  all  thought,  his  last ; 
together  with  the  intense  love  to  Christ,  which  so  mani- 
festly filled  his  breast,  and  the  conviction  that,  before 
another  Sabbath  dawned,  he  would  be  in  the  assembly 
of  the  just  made  perfect,  rendered  this  an  occasion  of 
the  most  thrilling  interest  to  all  present.  He  expressed 
the  great  delight  he  felt  in  the  service,  and  said,  "  that, 
in  answer  to  prayer,  God  had  granted  him  a  most  happy 
day."  Heaven  being  referred  to  in  connexion  with 
the  Lord's  Supper,  he  said,  "  Yes ;  it  is  a  feast ;  a  con- 
tinual, everlasting  feast."  We  then  chanted  his 
favourite  Psalm — the  23d— when  he  fell  asleep. 

Monday,  29th. — "  0,  what  a  happiness,  to  have  com- 
munion with  God !  Love  to  God  produces  such  love  to 
others.  Since  I  felt  what  I  do,  I  have  loved  you  all 


240  MEMOIR   OF 

so  much  more,  with  a  love  I  could  not  conceive  of.  0, 
my  blessed  Saviour !  how  can  I  serve  him  enough ! 
Were  I  to  live,  the  Bible  should  be  my  book !" 

Tuesday,  30th. — It  had  been  a  stormy  night. 

Dr.  Gr.  "As  I  heard  the  wind  blowing,  I  thought 
how  peaceful  and  happy  to  be  laid  in  the  cemetery." 

The  Rev.  J.  G.  called.  He  had  thought  the  charac- 
ter of  Dr.  G.'s  mind — the  demonstrative  proof  which  he 
required  for  everything,  before  he  could  receive  it — 
exposed  him  to  peculiar  danger;  and  he  had  prayed 
more  for  him  than  for  any  other  person.  He  said  to 
Dr.  G.,  "  You  now  feel  how  little  you  can  do  without 
Christ." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  We  can  do  nothing — poor,  wretched,  igno- 
rant ;  He  can  do  everything" 

Mr.  Gr.  "  This  disarms  eternity  of  its  terrors." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  It  has  no  terrors." 

Mr.  Gr.  "  You  must  not  look  within  yourself,  but  to 
Christ." 

Dr.  Gr.  "But  I  do  look  within  myself;  but  then  I 
cast  myself  on  Christ.  I  turn  to  the  promises  at  once. 
I  could  not  have  believed  there  was  such  joy.  I  have 
smiled  at  things  I  now  understand.  I  love  my  friends 
with  such  a  different  love,  my  whole  nature  seems 
changed." 

To  several  clergymen  at  his  bedside,  Dr.  G.  said, 
"  Preachers  do  not  speak  in  terms  exalted  enough  of  the 


Gospel.  It  is  such  a  book !  Had  I  strength  enough  to 
enter  a  pulpit,  I  do  not  know  what  I  would  not  say  of 
it.  I  had  long  been  trying  to  learn  it  by  reason. 
Never  !  Never  !  I  see  what  I  saw  not  before,  and  feel 
what  I  never  felt.  When  a  man  comes  to  that  book  like 
a  little  child,  he  will  find  wonders  in  it  to  make  him 
marvel.  The  love  of  God  is  what  I  cannot  describe. 
So  great  is  it,  I  could  have  no  doubts  and  fears.  To 
think  that  gracious  Being  has  been  seeking  me,  and 
afflicting  me,  till  He  brought  me  to  this  happiness  !  I 
murmured,  but  I  did  not  see  what  He  designed — to 
bring  me  to  that  blessed  Saviour  !  All  the  sayings  of 
the  Bible  so  accord  with  all  I  have  experienced,  that  I 
feel  it  to  be  the  most  marvellous  book  there  ever  was  in 
the  world.  Read  every  word  of  it,  and  take  it  just  as 
it  is.  I  feel  my  whole  mind  truly  changed." 
'  Though  the  mind  of  Dr.  Gordon  was  so  constantly 

w 

occupied  with  the  great  joys  and  hopes  of  the  gospel,  he 
was  far  from  being  indifferent  to  the  most  trivial  circum- 
stances passing  around  him.  His  room  was  always 
beautifully  adorned  with  flowers,  continually  sent  to  him 
by  his  friends  from  the  country,  in  the  arrangement  of 
which  he  took  much  interest.  While  he  was  apparently 
dozing,  a  conversation  in  an  undertone  was  going  on 
respecting  the  treatment  of  flowers,  and  a  question 
arose,  whether  it  was  necessary  to  change  the  water  in 
hyacinth  glasses.  To  our  surprise,  he  entered  into  the 
21 


242  MEMOIR   OF 

subject  with  animation,  saying,  that  the  water  should  be 
changed,  and  that  salt  should  be  put  into  the  water  of 
cut  flowers,  because  there  is  salt  in  the  earth ;  that  it 
acts  as  a  stimulant,  and  preserves  them  longer.  This  is 
mentioned  as  only  one  instance  out  of  many,  to  show 
how  far  was  his  state  of  mind  from  that  enthusiasm, 
which  regards  with  indifference  everything  but  the  one 
subject  which  unhealthily  excites  it.  His  care  to  have 
the  room  always  preserved  in  the  utmost  neatness,  his 
attention  to  the  convenience  of  all  around  him,  and  the 
kind  inquiries  he  put  to  his  visitors,  so  adapted  to  their 
peculiar  circumstances,  were  features  in  his  case,  which 
gave  a  peculiar  interest  to  what  he  said  on  the  greatest 
of  all  themes.  He  was  no  spiritual  hermit,  notwith- 
standing his  spiritual  fervour,  but  was  still  the  gentle- 
man, the  philosopher,  the  citizen,  the  husband,  the 
father,  the  friend. 

To  his  family  he  said,  "  How  can  I  help  loving  him  ? 
I  seem  to  see  him  with  his  heavenly  countenance  smiling 
on  me  now.  He  has  pardoned  me,  washed  me,  clothed 
me,  is  preparing  mansions  for  me, — I  feel  I  could  not 
rebel  against  him !  There  are  not  only  joys  to  come, 
but,  joys  in  this  world.  Having  him  so  near,  as  a  com- 
panion, takes  from  us  evil  thoughts,  ambition,  and  avarice. 
There  he  was,  seeking  me  out  first  and  not  I  seeking  him ! 
And  whence  came  this  ?  By  grace  we  are  saved  !  0  ! 
think  of  Christ,  How  can  any  one  think  of  himself  ? 


WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  243 

Analyze  any  one  act  of  his  life,  how  imperfect,  compared 
with  that  pure  and  spotless  Being !  He  has  forgiven  me, 
and  clothed  me  with  a  robe  of  righteousness.  It  has 
come  to  me  in  so  mysterious  a  manner.  I  now  see  how 
full  of  love  the  whole  Bible  is  !" 

N.  "  You  say  this  is  not  to  be  had  by  reason.  Yet 
religion  is,  after  all,  the  highest  and  best  reason,  for  it  is 
reliance  on  God,  and  he  must  be  true." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  And  more  than  that.  What  do  men  reason 
for  ?  Is  it  not  to  obtain  happiness  ?  Then  if  what  is 
called  philosophy  and  learning  does  not  produce  it,  but 
this  does,  this  must  be  the  highest  reason." 

Wednesday,  January  31. — He  exerted  himself  to 
write  on  the  title  pages  of  several  books,  which  he  de- 
signed as  mementoes  of  his  affection.  It  was  observable 
that  in  these  inscriptions  he  never  omitted  his  literary 
titles,  an  indication  that  however  he  condemned  human 
reason,  when  presuming  to  supersede  Divine  teaching, 
he  was  no  despiser  of  learning  in  its  proper  place.  This 
was  only  another  illustration  that  he  was  not  unmade  as 
a  man,  in  being  wew-made  as  a  Christian. 

To  Mr.  A.  "  People  have  said  that  death  is  fright- 
ful. I  look  on  it  with  pleasure.  I  see  no  monsters 
around  me.  Death  !  I  see  no  death  at  my  bedside.  It 
is  that  benign  Saviour  waiting  to  take  me.  I  could  not 
have  a  fear.  This  is  not  the  testimony  of  one  who  has 
nothing  to  live  for.  I  am  in  the  prime  of  life,  with  com- 


244  MEMOIR   OF 

forts  and  friends  around  me,  but  the  prospect  of  heaven 
is  more  than  all.  It  is  a  joy  man  knows  nothing  of!" 
A  fear  being  expressed  that  he  had  felt  the  preceding 
night  very  long,  through  wakefulness,  he  said, — "  0  no, 
not  at  all.  I  have  been  too  happy.  My  thoughts  have  been 
in  heaven,  and  in  that  beautiful  cemetery.  I  fear  I  am 
sinfully  impatient  in  so  longing  after  heaven,  but  it  is  so 
glorious  !  Christ,  not  death,  is  about  to  take  me  from 
earth.  There  is  no  death  to  the  Christian.  That  glori- 
ous gospel  takes  away  death." 

To  Rev.  K.  "  Christ  is  mine !  He  has  promised, 
will  he  not  be  faithful  ?  Then  I  am  safe.  Christians 
have  doubts  and  fears,  because  they  look  to  themselves. 
I  don't  look  to  myself.  I  am  a  mass  of  corruption,  but 
1  revel  in  the  atonement.  I  could  not  doubt.  To  think 
that  the  Saviour  descended  from  the  throne  of  God,  to 
suffer  all  the  sorrows  of  humanity,  and  die,  to  save  re- 
bellious man  !  Can  I  doubt  when  I  go  to  that  Saviour  ? 
0,  it  would  be  most  sinful !  I  shall  never  see  death,  that 
monster  so  often  talked  of.  It  is  Christ.  Ponder  every 
verse,  every  word  of  that  holy  book,  and  in  a  voice  of 
thunder  pour  it  into  their  ears.  Tell  them  to  read 
it  simply,  as  it  is,  and  believe  it,  to  take  the  words  as 
they  are,  and  not  reason.  Reason  only  perplexes.  I 
reasoned,  but  it  was  in  vain.  It  is  a  proof  to  me  that 
that  look  is  divine,  because  reason  could  never  have 
written  it" 


245 

A  very  pleasant  spot  had  been  selected  in  the 
cemetery  for  his  grave.  He  Was  much  interested  in  a 
description  of  it.  "  I'm  so  glad  you've  secured  such  a 
beautiful  place  for  me,"  said  he.  He  desired  that  there 
might  always  be  flowers  growing  over  his  grave,  and 
that  if  any  palisades  should  be  placed  round  it,  they 
might  be  kept  neatly  painted. 

Thursday,  February  1. — After  a  restless  night,  he 
was  moved  to  a  mattrass  on  the  floor,  that  the  bed  might 
be  arranged  to  his  greater  comfort.  This  movement 
caused  him  much  pain,  yet  not  a  murmur  escaped  him ; 
and  when  placed  on  the  bed  he  gratefully  and  cheerfully 
said,  "  Admirably  done ;  I  have  a  kind  God,  and  kind 
friends." 

Though  in  so  exhausted  a  state,  remembering  some 
accounts  which  were  unsettled,  he  called  for  them,  and 
his  memory  was  so  unimpaired  that  he  discovered  a 
trifling  error  in  one  of  them,  though  the  transaction  had 
occurred  a  long  time  previously.  He  said  he  was 
anxious  as  much  as  possible  to  save  trouble  to  those  who 
would  survive  him.  *  How  different  was  his  conduct  from 
that  selfish  indolence,  which  often  passes  for  a  renuncia- 
tion of  the  world,  when  the  world  is  already  beyond  the 
grasp !  He  regarded  attention  to  these  trifles  which 
might  increase  the  comfort  of  others,  as  by  no  means 
incompatible  with  his  exalted  spiritual  joy,  and  the  near 

prospect  of  eternity.     Earth,  as  long  as  he  remained  in 
21*  • 


246  MEMOIR   OF 

it,  had  duties  from  which  the  proximity  of  heaven  did 
not  absolve, — and  the  pleasure  of  discharging  them  was 
not  in  the  least  diminished  by  his  inability  to  derive  from 
them  any  personal  advantage.  Religion  is  intended  to 
everturn  nothing,  but  to  sanctify  everything ;  not  to  unfit 
us  for  earth  by  preparing  us  for  heaven,  but  by  that 
very  preparation  to  qualify  us  for  the  right  performance 
of  present  duties,  and  the  right  enjoyment  of  present 
mercies.  The  piety  which  in  making  the  saint  unmakes 
the  man,  is  rather  to  be  suspected  as  enthusiastic  and  in- 
complete, than  reverenced  as  the  highest  development 
of  Christian  character,  which  is  always  found  in  con- 
nexion with  truth  and  soberness,  and  is  ever  in  harmony 
with  all  that  God  has  ordained. 

Friday,  February  2. — "  0,  speak  to  me  about  Christ. 
I  want  to  hear  of  him.  No  other  subject  interests  me 
so  much."  Being  asked  how  he  felt  as  compared  wTith 
a  week  before,  he  replied,  "  0,  I  have  so  little  interest 
in  my  physical  condition,  that  I  don't  remember.  I've 
had  a  delightful  night ;  peace  unbroken  and  indescribable. 
When  once  we  feel  the  love  of  Christ,  it  gives  new  views 
of  everything."  Suffering  pain,  he  said  to  his  family, 
"  Don't  grieve  for  me.  I  feel  I  could  not  murmur  again. 
Talk  about  my  blessed  Redeemer.  His  marked  kindness 
to  me  has  been  so  great.  This  gives  me  peace  to  hear 
him  say, — £  Come  unto  me,  all  ye  that  labour  and  are 
heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you  rest. '  ' 


WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  247 

To  Mr.  H.,  who  came  unexpectedly  in  the  evening, 
"  How  kind  to  come  and  see  so  unworthy  a  creature  !" 

H.  "You  are  a  monument  of  mercy." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  I  am,  indeed ;  I  am  as  black  as  sin  can 
make  me." 

H.  "  We  grieve  to  lose  you,  but  the  will  of  God  must 
be  done." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  That  is  what  you  must  say,  what  I  say, 
every  hour." 

H.  "  We  ought  not  only  to  submit  to,  but  acquiesce 
in  his  will." 

Dr.  G.  (Very  earnestly)  "I  love  it." 

H.  "  Don't  let  me  weary  you,  but  I  love  to  talk  of 
the  grace  of  God." 

Dr.  Gr.  "I  should  like  to  hear  it  talked  of  from 
morning  to  night." 

H.  "  I  am  afraid  of  exciting  you." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  It  does  not  excite  me.  I  love  it.  I  have 
had  a  joy  and  a  peace  which  I  did  not  know  existed. 
And  how  did  I  get  it  ?  There's  the  kindness,  the  bless- 
ing !  No  clouds,  no  doubts,  no  fears, — peace  unbroken. 
I  am  a  marvellous  instance  of  the  gracious  interposition 
of  a  kind  God.  If  he  sought  me  when  I  did  not  seek 
him,  why  should  I  doubt,  now  I  have  gone  to  him !" 

H.  "  What  a  blessing  that  he  i  has  forgiven  us  all 
trespasses.'  They  alone  know  this  peace  who  have 
tasted  it.  You  have  it." 


248  MEMOIR   OF 

Dr.  6r.  "I  have  indeed.  If  such  an  impossibility 
could  take  place  as  that  I  should  be  restored,  nothing 
could  give  me  the  least  trouble.  I  do  not  think  fear  of 
any  kind  could  ever  enter  my  breast.  Had  I  no  other 
evidence  than  my  own  feelings,  of  the  truth  of  Chris- 
tianity, it  would  be  sufficient.  If  all  the  world  were 
anti- Christian,  I  should  be  a  Christian." 

H.  "  This  confidence  is  from  God.  Not  all  the  books 
you  have  read  could  have  given  it." 

Dr.  a.  "Never!" 

H.  "I  remember  once  thinking  it  folly  to  talk  of 
being  born  again.  We  knew  not  what  it  meant." 

Dr.  0-.  "  But  we  know  now.  It  is  the  strong  con- 
viction of  the  truth  of  Christianity  which  gives  me  peace 
and  blessedness.  It  has  so  changed  my  whole  nature. 
This  is  the  evidence." 

H.  "John  Newton,  when  entangled  by  scepticism, 
resolved  to  test  the  truth  of  Christianity  by  seeking  the 
Divine  influence  promised  in  answer  to  prayer,  arguing, 
that  if  religion  were  true,  the  result  of  such  seeking 
would  be  an  evidence  of  it." 

Dr.  6r.  "  That  is  the  argument  which  weighs  with 
me.  No  mere  reason  of  man  could  have  written  that 
book.  Reason  may  find  fault  with  it,  but  could  not 
have  made  it.  0  it  is  a  book  !  read  every  word  of  it, 
and  believe  it  just  as  it  is." 


WILLIAM  GORDON,   M.  D.  249 

jBT.  "  How  blessed  it  is  to  feel  a  thrill  of  joy  within 
at  the  name  of  Jesus  !" 

Dr.  G-.  "To  know  it  in  the  head,  is  not  to  know  it." 

H.  "I  have  been  called  mad  because  I  love  Christ 
and  delight  to  talk  of  him  continually." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  I  wish  all  the  world  were  mad. — My 
blessed  Saviour  is  always  with  me." 

This  conversation  was  the  last  of  ^iny  length  in 
which  he  partook,  and  very  greatly  exhausted  him. 
Death  was  evidently  not  far  off. 

Saturday,  February  2. — His  faculty  of  observation 
continued  so  keen,  that  on  awaking  this  morning  he 
noticed  that  a  vase  on  the  mantel-piece  at  the  extremity 
of  the  room,  was  not  exactly  even  with  the  correspond- 
ing one,  and  desired  that  it  might  be  arranged  properly. 
He  shaved  himself  with  a  little  assistance,  and  settled  a 
few  accounts.  He  said,  at  different  times — "  What  set 
of  men  could  have  written  a  book  so  adapted  to  our 
wants  as  the  Bible,  unless  they  had  been  taught  by 
God  ?  It  must  be  felt  in  the  heart,  and  not  merely  un- 
derstood in  the  head.  I  did  think  mine  a  hard  lot,  but 
since  this  came  to  me,  I  have  deeply  repented  of  that 
wickedness,  and  thought  it  a  blessed  lot.  The  Lord 
knew  what  he  was  doing  with  me.  It  is  only  having 
Christ  with  me  that  takes  away  my  fear.  What  a  blessed 
thing  to  have  him  for  your  Friend  and  Brother !  I 


250  MEMOIR   OF 

have  much  to  say,  but  I  cannot  speak.     Tell  them  what 
God  has  done  for  me." 

In  the  afternoon  he  appeared  to  be  at  the  point  of 
death. 


CHAPTER  V. 

FROM  SUNDAY,  FEBRUARY  4,  TO  HIS  DEATH,  WEDNESDAY,  FEBRUARY  7. 

DR.  GORDON  was  too  feeble  to  converse  much. 
To  E.  "  My  gracious  God  has  been  very  merciful 
to  me.     He  has  given  me  a  joy  I  never  felt  before, — an 
inconceivable  joy !" 

E.  "  I  hope  we  shall  all  meet  in  the  new  Jerusalem, 
where  there  will  be  no  more  dying." 

Dr.  G.  "  There  is  none  here!" 

E.  I  hope  He  will  give  you  to  the  end,  that  peace 
which  passeth  all  understanding." 

Dr.  a.  "I  have  it." 

Of  the  rightousness  of  Christ  he  said,  "It  is  that 
which  removes  all  my  fear;  every  particle  of  fear; 
nothing  else  could."  Being  reminded  that  a  few  days 
before,  he  had  said  that  he  did  not  see  death  at  his  bed- 
side, and  being  asked  if  he  saw  him  now,  he  replied, 
"  No !  It  is  Christ,  who  has  washed  us  !  I  have  Christ 
by  me.  See  death !  I  see  nothing  but  Christ." 

The  Lord's  Supper  was  again  celebrated  in  his  room, 


WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  251 

at  his  request.  He  enjoyed  the  solemn  ceremony.  As 
the  night  advanced  his  pulse  became  so  feeble,  that  it 
was  thought  he  would  not  survive  till  morning.  In  all 
the  intervals  of  dozing,  he  requested  that  hymns  and 
passages  of  Scripture  might  be  read,  frequently  uttering 
an  expression  of  pleasure,  and  requesting  that  a  mark 
should  be  placed  in  the  margin  of  whatever  specially  in- 
terested him. 

Monday,  February  5. — On  awaking  he  asked  for 
something  to  be  read  to  him  on  the  subject  of  the  cruci- 
fixion. He  could  speak  but  little,  and  chiefly  in  a  re- 
sponsive way. 

"  Is  Jesus  precious  to  you?" 

Dr.  a.  "  0  yes  !" 

"  You  are  clothed  with  that  white  robe  ?" 

Dr.  a.  "  I  am." 

"  Do  you  feel  any  fear  now  ?" 

Dr.  a.  "Not  the  slightest!" 

"You  love  us  still?" 

Looking  round  at  all  most  affectionately,  he  fixed  his 
eyes  upon  his  wife,  and  said, 

"My  dear  one!" — to  his  daughter,  "My  darling 
child !" 

He  complained  of  his  memory  failing,  and  of  double 
vision.  He  was  unable  to  turn  himself,  nor  could  he  be 
moved  for  his  bed  to  be  made. 

Tuesday,  February  6. — He  was  again  much  revived. 


252  MEMOIR   OF 

Several  friends  called  to  see  him,  though  he  was  unable 
to  speak  to  them,  except  in  monosyllables. 

Mrs.  Gr.  "  You  are  very  weak,  but  you  are  able,  not- 
withstanding this  debility,  to  take  pleasure  in  thinking 
of  Christ  ?" 

Dr.  a.  "  0  yes !" 

W.  L.  "You've  no  anxiety — no  fear?" 

Dr.  a.  (Emphatically,)    "  None  !' 

The  symptoms  became  very  alarming  towards  even- 
ing; and,  about  midnight,  as  we  were  all  watching 
around  his  bed,  his  daughter,  taking  his  hand,  said,  "It's 
your  child,  father !" 

Dr.  G-.  (With  much  tenderness)  "My  great  gem!" 
Then  turning  to  his  wife  he  said,  "And  is  this  Mater?" 
fixing  on  her  a  look  of  indescribable  affection.  He  after- 
wards affectionately  recognised  all  present  individually. 

N.  "  Christ  is  with  you  !" 

Dr.  a.  "I  feel  him!" 

N.  "We  are  broken-hearted  in  prospect  of  losing 
you." 

Dr.  Gr.  "  We  shall  all  live  together  in  heaven ;  cleave 
close  to  Christ — walk  with  him." 

Wednesday,  February  7. — At  2  o'clock,  A.  M.,  he 
called  for  some  refreshment,  but  the  effort  of  eating  was 
very  exhausting  to  him.  From  a  fear  that  the  light  on 
the  tray  might  distress  him,  he  was  asked  if  it  should  be 
removed. 


253 

Dr.  Gr.  "Not  while  you  are  here:"  implying  his 
wish  to  look  on  the  faces  of  his  family. 

He  then  said,  "But  when  am  I  to  leave  you?" 

JW.  "  One  of  your  medical  friends  told  us  you  would 
not  see  the  daylight." 

Dr.  0-.  "No,  I  shall  live  longer  than  that." 

Desiring,  but  unable  to  speak  more,  N.  said,  "  You 
cannot  talk  now,  but  we  know  what  you  would  say  if 
you  could.  Your  heart  is  full  of  love  to  us  and  to  Jesus." 

Dr.  G-.  (Very  earnestly)  "  That  is  it." 

At  six  o'clock,  A.  M.,  it  was  evident  from  the  sudden 
change  which  had  taken  place  in  his  appearance,  that 
his  end  was  at  length  rapidly  approaching. 

E.  "  You'll  soon  be  in  heaven  !" 

Dr.  G-.  "Yes;  and  you'll  all  follow  me;  and  I'll 
welcome  you.  We  all  hold  the  same  principles." 

E.  repeated,  "  Though  I  walk  through  the  valley 
of  the  shadow  of  death,  I  will  fear  no  evil,  for  Thou  art 
with  me ;  thy  rod  and  thy  staif  they  comfort  me." 

Dr.  G.  responded,  "  Yes ;  if  He  were  not  with  me, 
how  dark  it  would  be  !  But  it's  all  light !" 

At  eight  o'clock,  he  awoke  from  a  short  sleep,  and 
listened  with  deep  interest  to  some  of  Lavington's  Sacra- 
mental Meditations,  and  closing  passages  from  Baxter's 
Saints'  Rest;  his  countenance  beamed  with  heartfelt 
delight,  and  the  most  cordial  concurrence  in  the  senti- 
ments which  they  expressed. 
22  . 

' 


254  MEMOIR   OF 

About  noon,  a  friend  calling  to  bid  him  farewell,  he 
said,  by  a  great  effort,  "Give  her  a  chair;"  so  con- 
siderate was  he  to  the  last  of  the  comfort  of  others. 

W.  L.,  entering  his  room,  said,  "  This  looks  like  a 
defeat,  Gordon,  but  it's  a  victory." 

Dr.  6r.  (emphatically,  though  in  a  whisper).  "  It  is." 

W.  L.  "  We  shall  all  think  of  you." 

Dr.  G-.  "Thank  you!" 

W.  L.  "  You  can  say,  '  Thanks  be  to  God,  who 
giveth  us  the  victory  ?'  ' 

Dr.  a.  "  Indeed  I  can  !" 

W.  L.  "  That's  your  consolation — Christ,  my  Sa- 
viour, died." 

Dr.  a.  Yes,  it  is !" 

N.  "  We  are  on  this  side  the  river ;  but  Christ  is  on 
the  opposite  bank,  beckoning  you  to  Himself." 

Dr.  #.  "He  is!" 

N.  "  We  cannot  bear  to  part ;  but  we  shall  meet  in 
heaven." 

Dr.  #.  "  Christ  is  there." 

This  was  said  with  peculiar  emphasis,  as  if  to  convey 
the  idea,  that  however  great  the  joy  which  the  reunion 
of  friends  would  impart — and  none  entered  more  fully 
into  this  than  himself — yet  the  chief  joy  of  the  heavenly 
world  would  arise  from  the  presence  of  Jesus,  and 
resemblance  to  Him. 

Several  friends  called ;  all  of  whom  he  kindly  recog- 

*>:*• 


WILLIAM   GORDON,    M.  D.  255 

nised.  To  his  man-servant  he  said,  "  God  bless  you, 
Tranmer.  He  will  be  with  you,  and  be  your  friend. 
Persevere  in  godliness  and  purity  of  life."  To  his 
nurse — "  You  have  been  a  kind  friend  to  me." 

When  left  alone  with  his  nearest  relatives,  he  said, 
after  a  pause,  during  which  his  thoughts  were  evidently 
intent  on  the  heavenly  city, — "  Repeat  that  about  the 
great  army !"  The  quotations  from  Ret.  vii.  9,  10, 
were  read,  and,  although  he  said  nothing,  his  counte- 
nance plainly  manifested  that  he  had  been  understood. 
He  was,  by  faith,  beholding  "  that  great  army,"  whom 
he  was  soon  to  join  in  celebrating  the  high  anthem  of 
heaven.  "  Blessing,  and  honour,  and  glory,  and  power, 
be  unto  Him  that  sitteth  on  the  throne,  and  to  the  Lamb, 
for  ever  and  ever." 

The  feast  of  bliss  which  Jesus  was  preparing  for  all 
his  followers,  was  alluded  to,  and  at  which  he  was  about  to 
become  a  guest.  To  this  he  replied,  in  a  tone  of  earnest 
desire,  "  I  wish  he  would  come."  He  then  took  a  most 
tender  farewell  of  his  wife.  To  his  distressed  daughter 
he  said,  with  inexpressible  tenderness,  "  Bless  thee,  my 
child." 

"You  love  me  still,  father  !" 

"Yes,  dearly."  He  then  opened  his  hand,  which 
now  had  almost  lost  its  power  of  motion,  for  the  purpose 
of  receiving  hers,  which  he  tenderly  pressed,  together 
with  that  of  her  husband.  This  was  its  last  act. 


256  MEMOIR  OF 

After  a  pause,  he  said,  with  considerable  effort, 
"Bring  them  all."  His  meaning  was  not  understood, 
but  making  one  more  attempt,  with  a  desperate  struggle, 
he  whispered,  "  Everybody  !" 

These  were  his  last  words.  They  show  how  fully  he 
was  in  possession  of  his  mind,  and  how  entirely  con- 
scious he  was  of  his  being  on  the  point  of  departure. 
Knowing  the  melancholy  satisfaction  of  being  present  at 
the  actual  death  of  a  dear  friend,  of  which  they  might 
be  deprived  who  had  kindly  quitted  his  room,  lest  he 
should  be  inconvenienced  by  a  crowd,  his  last  effort  of 
affection  was  to  summon  all  in  the  house  into  his  cham- 
ber, which  was  now  filled  with  sorrowing  but  silent 
friends. 

Increased  difficulty  of  breathing  was  the  only 
distressing  symptom.  He  appeared  no  longer  con- 
scious of  what  took  place  around  him.  He  gazed 
upwards,  as  in  rapt  vision.  No  film  overspread  his  eyes. 
They  beamed  with  an  unwonted  lustre,  and  the  whole 
countenance,  losing  the  aspect  of  disease  and  pain,  with 
which  we  had  been  so  long  familiar,  glowed  with  an 
expression  of  indescribable  rapture.  As  we  watched  in 
silent  wonder  and  praise,  his  features,  which  had  become 
motionless,  suddenly  yielded  for  a  few  seconds,  to  a 
smile  of  ecstasy  which  no  pencil  could  ever  depict,  and 
which  none  who  witnessed  it  can  ever  forget.  And  when 
it  passed  away,  still  the  whole  countenance  continued  to 


257 

beam  and  brighten,  as  if  reflecting  the  glory  on  which 
the  soul  was  gazing.  Like  Stephen,  he  was  by  faith 
looking  up  to  heaven,  and  with  a  clearer  vision  than  may 
be  hoped  for,  till  the  river  of  death  is  well  nigh  passed, 
was  beholding,  through  the  opening  gates  of  glory,  "  the 
Son  of  Man  standing  at  the  right  hand  of  God."  It  is 
not  too  much  to  say,  that,  as  far  as  the  expression  of 
holy  rapture  could  contribute  to  it,  like  Stephen's,  "  his 
face  was  as  it  had  been  the  face  of  an  angel." 

Though  his  emaciated  frame,  propped  up  by  pillows, 
was  incapable  of  the  least  effort,  yet  such  was  the  effect 
on  the  bystanders  of  his  upward,  outstretching  gaze, 
that  even  the  motionless  body  itself  seemed  to  be  reach- 
ing forward,  as  if  impatient  for  the  summons  to  depart. 
"We  saw  as  much  as  mortal  eye  could  see  of  the  entrance 
into  glory.  Nothing  more  could  have  been  given  us, 
but  the  actual  vision  of  the  separate  spirit,  and  its 
angelic  convoy.  This  glorious  spectacle  lasted  for  about 
a  quarter  of  an  hour,  increasing  in  interest  to  the  last, 
during  which  the  soul  seemed  pouring  itself  forth  from 
the  frail  tenement  which  had  imprisoned  it,  into  the 
embrace  of  its  Lord.  The  breathing  now  became 
shorter  and  shorter ;  then,  after  a  long  pause,  one  last 
gentle  heaving  of  the  chest — and  without  a  struggle,  at 
two  o'clock,  the  soul  had  fled  ! 
22* 


(259) 


"  The  healing  art,  which  Baron  Haller  applied  with  unequalled 
success  to  the  diseases  of  the  body,  could  not,  as  he  experienced  in 
his  own  person,  reach  that  dissatisfaction  with  the  present,  and  that 
awful  apprehension  of  the  future  state,  which  will  at  certain  seasons 
break  in  upon,  and  interrupt  the  course  of  business  and  pleasure, 
and  agitate  the  bosoms  of  mankind. 

"With  the  torrent  of  fresh  images  which  were  poured  into  his 
mind  from  every  new  contemplation,  were  mingled  the  comforts  of 
religion.  Its  laws  were  to  him  a  delightful  subject  of  attention,  and 
a  joyful  object  of  hope.  He  tasted  of  the  fountain  of  life,  where  refresh- 
ing streams  so  invigorated  his  soul,  that  he  beheld  undismayed  the  King 

of  Terrors  /" 

SKETCH  or  BAROK  HALLEK. 


(260) 


MEMOIK  OF 
DR.   CHARLES  H.   BROU^HTON, 

A   SUEGEON   OF   THE    UNITED    STATES    NAVY. 


DR.  BROUGHTON  was  converted  to  God  on  board 
of  a  United  States  vessel  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico, 
sometime  during  the  winter  or  spring  of  1842,  whilst  on 
professional  duty  under  the  government.    Of  his  previous 
history  but  little  information  is  at  hand. 

In  the  winter  of  1842,  it  pleased  God  to  pour  out  his 
spirit  in  a  remarkable  manner  upon  the  congregation  in 

N ,  Virginia,  to  which  his  parents  were  attached. 

The  old  and  the  young,  the  moral  and  profane,  were 
alike  made  the  trophies  of  redeeming  grace.  An  account 
of  the  work  of  God  was  communicated  to  him,  then  in 
the  Gulf  of  Mexico,  by  a  devoted  sister,  who  also  in- 
formed him  of  the  conversion  of  many  of  his  old  associ- 
ates, and  among  them  some  of  the  members  of  his  own 

family.     This  intelligence  seems  to  have  been  the  special 

(261) 


262  MEMOIR   OF 

i 
means  employed  by  God,  in  arousing  his  attention  to 

spiritual  and  eternal  things.  God  is  also  the  hearer  of 
prayer,  and  his  Spirit  can  reach  at  once  the  family  at 
home  and  the  youth  in  a  distant  port. 

The  following  extracts  from  his  letters  will  exhibit 
the  interest  he  felt  when  hearing  of  the  revival  in  his 
native  place,  and  seem  to  furnish  to  his  friends  the  first 
information  of  the  spiritual  change  of  which  he  was  the 
subject : — 

"  I  was  deeply  affected,  you  may  be  sure,  by  the  in- 
teresting intelligence  contained  in  your  last  letter ;  and 
had  wealth  beyond  the  dreams  of  avarice  become  ours,  I 
should  have  rejoiced  less  than  at  the  news  of  an  awaken- 
ing in  our  own  family  and  town." 

In  a  letter  dated  Key  West,  April  15,  he  says, 
"  Pleasant  and  sweet  as  the  voices  of  those  I  love  were 
the  messengers  from  home,  that  came  to  me  by  the  last 
mail.  They  were  full  of  comfort,  and  raised  my  heart 
to  the  Giver  of  all  good,  that  even  here,  where  there  is 
no  sound  of  Sabbath  bell,  where  the  servants  of  the  Lord 
are  not,  and  where  the  wicked  seem  to  strive  without 
restraint,  he  has  provided  such  rich  banquets  for  me  in 
the  gratulations  of  distant  friends,  and  in  their  sympathy 
and  advice.  To  know,  too,  that  nearly  all  the  members 
of  my  family  have,  through  Christ,  been  accepted  of 
God,  to  know  that  His  Spirit  is  still  spreading  and  ex- 
tending among  the  people  of  my  native  town,  and  that 


DR.    CHARLES   H.   BROUGHTON.  263 

many  friends,  out  of  the  family,  but  still  dear  to  my 
remembrance,  have  felt  his  influence  and  forsaken  evil, 
to  hear  also  that  the  circle  of  his  operations  is  spreading 
farther  and  farther  about  the  country— Oh  what  rapture, 
what  overflowing  of  eyes  and  heart  did  all  this  cause  me ! 
What  praises  too  do  I  not  owe  to  the  Judge  of  all  the 
earth,  that  he  has  not  suffered  me  to  harden  my  heart  in 
the  midst  of  all  these  wonders,  but  has  answered  the 
intercessions  made  in  my  behalf  with  the  effectual  ope- 
rations of  his  Spirit  ?" 

The  struggles  and  conflicts  through  which  his  mind 
passed,  when  und6r  the  special  teachings  of  the  Spirit, 
together  with  his  ultimate  acquiescence  in  God's  plan  of 
saving  sinners,  are  stated  by  himself  in  two  letters  bear- 
ing date  March  4,  and  April  15.  In  the  former  he  says : 

"I  hasten  to  answer  your  solicitous  inquiry — 'Do 
you  feel  yourself  a  poor,  lost  sinner,  with  no  hope  but 
in  Christ,  and  no  joy  but  in  his  love !'  I  do  indeed 
humbly  and  earnestly  trust  that  the  Spirit  of  God  has 
purged  my  vision  to  the  beholding  of  the  wickedness  of 
my  own  heart,  and  shocked  and  sickened  me  with  the 
loathsome  spectacle.  By  that  operation  I  have  beheld 
and  comprehended  the  web  of  sophistry  in  which  sin 
had  entangled  my  soul,  in  the  hour  of  temptation  lulling 
my  conscience  into  security  by  crying  peace,  peace,  when 
there  was  no  peace,  and  with  all  the  serpent's  subtlety 


264  MEMOIR  'OJf 

persuading  me,  '  Thou  shalt  not  surely  die,'  when  God 
had  said,  '  Thou  shalt  die.1 

"  Oh  how  clearly  did  I  see  its  treachery  and  deceit, 
ts  wickedness  and  folly,  and  how  gladly  did  I  turn  from 
the  Syren  I  had  listened  to,  to  trust  in  the  Lord,  and  to 
wrestle  with  Him  for  the  hope  that  is  in  Christ !  But 
oh,  how  hard  it  was  to  turn — to  close  my  ears  to  the 
eloquent  pleadings  of  sin  and  Satan — to  believe  that 
the  Saviour  could  pity  and  love  a  wretch  who  had  so 
often  witnessed  the  wonderful  works  of  his  Providence, 
yet  went  straightway  and  sinned  again !  Yet  He 
remembered  i  that  we  are  but  flesh — a  wind  that  passeth 
away  and  cometh  not  again,'  and  graciously  conde- 
scended to  bruise  the  head  of  the  serpent  that  had 
beguiled  me,  so  that  I  now  hope  that  '  old  things  have 
passed  away,  and  all  things  have  become  new.' 

"And  how  differently  now  do  this  world  and  this 
life  appear !  What  to  me  are  the  cold  and  unsympa- 
thizing  regards,  the  unwilling  praise  that  might  be 
irrung  from  the  world  by  a  life  spent  in  its  service,  to  the 
joy  that  is  in  heaven  '  over  one  sinner  that  repenteth  ?' 
What  are  the  cares  and  sorrows  of  worldly  ambition, 
compared  with  the  love,  desire,  faith,  and  hope  that  fill 
the  heart  in  meditating  upon  the  goodness  of  God,  and 
reading  his  word  with  spiritual  discernment?  Suroly 
i  the  evidence  of  things  not  seen,  and  the  substance  of 


DR.    CHARLES   H.    BROUGHTON.  265 

things  hoped  for,'  are  joys  that  surpass  all  the  joys  that 
flow  from  sensual  objects. 

"I  need  no  further  evidence  of  my  sinful  nature 
than  that  even  now  I  transgress  daily,  having  cause 
often  to  grieve  that  the  fear  of  the  Lord  is  not  always 
before  my  eyes,  that  my  faith  is  too  weak,  and  that  I 
am  liable  to  be  influenced  by  the  fear  of  ridicule  and 
the  habits  of  those  around  me.  My  eyes  have  been 
opened,  however,  to  see  that  this  results  chiefly  from  the 
neglect  of  some  Christian  duty,  and  I  am  thus  warned  to 
be  earnest  at  all  times  ;  for  I  find  that  nothing  but  the 
Holy  Spirit  strengthening  me,  can  so  work  upon  my 
heart  as  to  destroy  the  influence  of  its  old  habits  and 
associations :  nor  is  this  ever  withheld  when  I  seek  it." 

In  his  second  letter  his  statements  are  more  minute, 
and  the  exercises  of  his  mind  are  given  in  a  more 
graphic  and  interesting  manner. 

"  The  means  God  has  made  use  of  in  drawing  me  to 
himself,  are  to  me  inconceivable.  I  understand  but 
this,  that  *  whereas  I  was  blind,  now  I  see.'  There  was 
sorrow  following  the  known  commission  of  sin — there 
was  the  desire  for  reformation — there  was  the  sharp 
conflict  between  conviction  and  depraved  but  rooted 
natural  habits — there  was  the  frequent  triumph  of  the 
latter — there  was  the-  deep  feeling  of  wounded  pride, 
self-abaSement,  and  complete  humiliation,  in  consequence 
t  of  my  own  will  not  being  sufficient  for  reformation — 
23  • 


266  MEMOIR   OF 

there  was  the  consciousness  that  I  should  perish  except 
I  did  repent — there  was  the  agony  with  which  I  looked 
upon  eternity,  dark  and  cheerless,  without  joy  and 
without  even  hope — there  was  the  anxious  inquiry, 
6  What  shall  I  do  to  inherit  eternal  life  ?' — and  then, 
thank  God,  there  was  gushing  prayer,  l  God  be  merciful 
to  me  a  sinner' — then  came  answers  like  revelations  from 
heaven — then  did  I  seem  to  hear,  '  ME  for  him,  life  for 
life  I  offer;  on  me  let  thine  anger  fall;  account  me 
man.  I,  for  his  sake,  will  leave  thy  bosom,  and  this 
glory  next  to  thee  freely  put  off;  and  for  him  lastly  die.' 
"  It  seemed  to  me  as  if  God  <  reasoned  with  me,'  so 
quickly  were  my  questions  answered,  so  fully  were  my 
doubts  removed.  Then  did  I  feel 

"  '  The  sweet  comfort  and  peace 
Of  a  soul  in  its  earliest  love.' 

(Thank  you  for  that  hymn,  I  have  it  literally  by  heart.) 
How  mysterious  do  my  former  blindness  and  my  present 
light  appear !  I  used  to  feel  quite  secure ;  imagined 
that  I  loved  God,  and  that  God  loved  me.  I  worshipped 
Him  in  the  self-righteous  spirit  of  Socrates,  or  as  the 
Indian  worships  his  Manitou,  or  the  Turk  confides  in  his 
destiny ;  knowing  nothing  of  natural  depravity  and 
enmity  to  God,  and  the  inevitable  necessity  of  a  Saviour ; 
knowing  not  that  without  Christ  <  we  can  do  Nothing,' 
and  that  salvation  is  not  of  ourselves,  but  the  gift  of 


DR.    CHARLES    H.    BROUGHTON.  267 

God.  '  0  the  depth  of  the  riches  both  of  the  wisdom 
and  knowledge  of  God !  How  unsearchable  are  His 
judgments,  and  His  ways  past  finding  out !' 

"And  now,  what  a  blessed  thing  it  is  to  know  and 
love  this  Saviour !  <  Shall  tribulation,  or  distress,  or 
persecution,  or  famine,  or  nakedness,  or  peril,  or  sword, 
separate  me  from  the  love  of  Christ  ?'  I  trust  not,  with 
the  help  of  God.  Though  troubles  and  trials  surround 
me  here  as  a  fiery  furnace,  there  is  One  walking  with 
me  like  the  Son  of  God,  as  with  the  Jewish  youths,  and 
the  smell  of  fire  shall  not  pass  upon  me.  How  beautiful 
is  the  following  verse  in  Isaiah,  <  Fear  not,  for  I  have 
redeemed  thee.  I  have  called  thee  by  thy  name,  and 
thou  art  mine.  When  thou  passest  through  the  waters, 
I  will  be  with  thee ;  and  through  the  rivers,  they  shall 
not  overflow  thee.  When  thou  walkest  through  the  fire 
thou  shalt  not  be  burned,  neither  shall  the  flame  kindle 
upon  thee.' 

"  These  things  are  my  comfort,  my  very  present  help 
in  time  of  need.  For  the  daily  duties  of  a  heavenly 
life,  I  have  that  best  of  guides — the  Bible,  read  by  the 
light  of  the  Spirit;  and  for  my  commentator  I  have 
Baxter's  Saints'  Rest — a  book  filled  with  the  breath  of 
active  hope  and  love,  as  if,  to  use  his  own  words,  <  the 
things  written  there  had  been  engraved  on  his  heart  by 
a  beam  from  the  face  of  the  Son  of  God.'  The  tracts 
you  sent  me  are  very  appropriate  and  please  me  much, 


268  MEMOIR   OF 

especially  those  entitled  'Do  I  grow  in  Grace?'  and 
'  Ad  vice  to  Young  Converts.'  My  companions,  I  dare 
say,  think  me  less  of  a  '  good  fellow'  now  than  they  did ; 
but  the  Christian  who  acts  consistently  with  his  faith, 
must  command  respect  from  all  but  fools,  and  the  esteem 
of  such,  or  indeed  of  any,  is  of  small  value  compared 
with  the  love  of  God.  '  I  reckon  that  the  sufferings  of 
this  present  time  are  not  worthy  to  be  compared  with 
the  glory  that  shall  be  revealed  in  us.'  These  things, 
however,  God  has  tempered  to  me,  and  I  go  on  my 
course  without  exciting  the  opposition  or  ridicule  of 
those  around  me.  Generally,  and  I  speak  it  in  their 
praise,  my  brother  officers,  though  caring  for  none  of 
these  things  themselves,  respect  the  feelings  and  opinions 
of  others,  and  have  the  good  sense  to  distinguish  between 
disinclination  for  their  occupations,  and  dislike  for 
themselves." 

The  following  extract  from  a  letter,  dated  Key 
West,  March  16,  furnishes  many  pleasing  evidences  of 
the  thoroughness  of  the  change  which  had  taken  place 
in  the  heart  of  Dr.  Broughton.  It  also  exhibits  the 
groanings  of  his  soul  while  situated  amid  influences 
adverse  to  its  spiritual  advancement  and  comfort. 

"It  is  a  source  of  regret  to  me  that  I  cannot  be 
more  alone,  to  indulge  in  pious  exercises  and  reflections 
with  greater  ease  and  freedom  ;*  and  to  escape  the  con- 
versation of  the  persons  around  me,  I  have  sometimes 


DR.    CHARLES   H.    BROUGHTON.  269 

gone  ashore  in  a  savage  country,  with  a  musket  to 
protect  me,  that  I  might  be  alone  with  God.  Yet  even 
the  conduct  and  conversation  of  my  messmates  teaches 
me  humility,  inasmuch  as  I,  '  knowing  the  judgment  of 
God,  that  they  which  commit  such  things  are  worthy  of 
death,  have  not  only  done  the  same,  but  had  pleasure  in 
those  that  do  them.'  Thus  when  I  see  ignorance  and 
folly  in  others,  far  from  feeling  any  self-complacency,  I 
derive  the  lesson  that  the  good  I  may  have  is  not  of 
myself,  but  from  the  grace  of  God. 

"Blessed  be  God,  too,  that  the  new  desires  and 
impulses  he  has  planted  in  me,  he  has  not  forgotten  to 
water  and  increase.  I  felt  not  shame  but  joy,  a  few 
days  ago,  when  appealed  to  to  decide  an  argument  about 
the  propriety  of  some  pleasurable  sin,  to  hear  its  advo- 
cate exclaim,  '  Oh,  the  doctor  takes  his  morality  from 
the  Bible.'  And  yet,  not  a  long  time  has  elapsed  since 
I  should  have  been  ashamed  to  have  him  see  me  with 
the  Bible  in  my  hand  ! 

"  I  have  been  always  fond  of  acquiring  knowledge ; 
but  latterly,  how  changed  is  the  motive.  Once,  every 
fact  that  I  added  to  my  hive,  every  new  idea  that  flashed 
upon  my  mind,  every  labour  that  was  undertaken,  and 
every  task  performed,  was  but  a  snare  to  my  feet,  a 
temptation  in  my  path.  Ostentatious  display  was  the 
motive,  and  self-conceit  the  result.  And  great  indeed 
was  the  barrier  of  pride  and  self-reliance  with  which  I 

23*  •  " 


270  MEMOIR   OF 

had  thus  fortified  my  heart.  The  grace  of  God,  how- 
ever, has  been  greater,  and  the  knowledge  of  Christ  is 
now  my  highest  aim,  my  chief  hope.  A  mine  of  wisdom 
has  been  opened  to  me  in  the  Gospel  by  the  light  of 
grace,  where  I  had  previously  groped  about  in  darkness. 

"  In  the  wonders  of  scientific  research  I  now  can 
hear  the  voice  of  God,  and  see  His  hand.  In  the  his- 
tory of  the  past  I  can  watch  His  providence  working 
out  its  own  ends,  and  so  disposing  events  as  to  make 
them  work  together  for  His  own  glory  and  the  advance- 
ment of  His  kingdom.  Even  my  imagination,  that 
enemy  to  truth  and  heightener  of  sinful  lusts,  has,  under 
the  gentle  influence  of  Christ,  become  an  associate  with 
faith  and  hope  and  love,  in  strengthening  my  convic- 
tions and  quickening  my  perceptions  of  heavenly  things. 
There  are  sins,  alas  too  numerous,  that  do  easily  beset 
me,  and  which  sometimes  bring  the  fear  that  my  '  good- 
ness is  as  the  morning  cloud,'  that  I  am  still  under  the 
dominion  of  sin  and  Satan,  and  that  the  hope  of  eternal 
life  with  me  is  a  mere  delusion. 

"  I  endeavour  to  forsake  sinful  pleasures,  for  I  have 
ceased  to  delight  in  them.  An  easy  disposition,  how- 
ever, often  induces  me  to  yield.  May  God  forgive  me, 
and  strengthen  me  by  His  grace  to  hold  on  in  '  patient 
continuance  in  well  doing' — to  trust  less  in  myself,  and 
more  in  Christ — to  watch  and  pray,  lest  I  enter  into 
temptation.  Your  prayers,  my  dear  sister,  I  am  sure  I 


DR.    CHARLES   H.    BROUGHTON.  271 

have.  I  have  written  a  long  account  of  my  feelings 
upon  religion.  It  is  a  subject  that  engages  my  thoughts 
continually,  and  which  has  precedence  of  every  other,  so 
that  I  should  not  tire  were  I  to  write  ever  so  much  more. 
You  will  feel  with  me  and  for  me,  and  can  fully  appre- 
ciate my  situation." 

When  a  soul  is  converted,  it  is  impossible  for  it  to  be 
idle.  Salvation  may  begin  with  itself,  but  can  only  end 
with  all  who  need  it.  The  feelings  of  Dr.  Broughton  cm 
this  subject  are  exhibited  in  a  communication,  dated 
Indian  Key,  May,  1842. 

"  It  is  the  high  privilege  of  my  vocation  not  only  to 
minister  physical  relief  to  suffering  man,  but  also  in  the 
ear  of  him  who  thought  to  die  hopeless  and  unpitied,  to 
speak  words  of  sympathy,  comfort,  and  peace.  Of  what 
priceless  value  then — and  at  what  small  cost — is  a  simple 
pressure  of  the  hand,  accompanied  with  a  whisper  of 
that  love  that  requires  of  the  most  hardened  sinner  the 
exercise  of  faith  alone  for  salvation  ! 

"  I  have  for  some  time  past  been  deeply  interested 
and  affected  by  the  accounts  that  reach  us  of  the  revival 
of  religion,  and  the  progress  of  temperance  at  the  North. 
They  surpass  all  human  conception,  and  ought  alone  to 
convict  sinners,  as  the  great  light  from  heaven  did  Saul. 
How  visible  are  the  workings  of  God's  Spirit !  I  look 
with  wonder  and  confidence  to  these  movements  and  the 


272  MEMOIR    OF 

missionary  cause,  as  the  setting  of  the  tide  towards  the 
kingdom  of  heaven  universal  upon  earth.  Inquiries 
into  the  future,  farther  than  depends  upon  the  promises 
of  God,  are  generally  vain  and  useless.  But  these 
promises  should  urge  Christians  onward — not  to  ask, 
'Are  all  things  ready?' — but  earnestly  to  labour,  that 
the  knowledge  of  salvation  may  be  spread  abroad,  and 
freely  to  give  as  they  have  freely  received,  the  glad 
tidings  of  *  good  will  to  men.' 

"  I  am  perhaps  carried  beyond  the  humility  proper 
for  me,  in  thus  expressing  my  opinion ;  but  these  are 
matters  that  I  feel  zealous  about,  and  my  mouth  speaks 
out  from  the  fulness  of  my  heart.  I  feel  my  benevolent 
sympathies  expand  the  more,  the  more  they  are  grati- 
fied. Like  the  circle  in  water,  that,  starting  from  one 
point,  spreads  itself  over  the  whole  surface,  so  charity 
with  me,  by  God's  blessing,  though  beginning  at  home, 
did  not  stop  there.  My  first  desires  were  for  myself, 
then  my  family,  my  friends  and  acquaintances  came 
next,  then  my  country,  then  all  human  kind ;  and,  glory 
to  God,  His  work  seems  to  prosper  in  all.  Please  tell 
Thomas,  that  as  he  is  my  purser  I  make  him  my  almoner 
also,  and  commission  him  to  make  an  offering  for  me  at 
the  concerts  of  prayer  for  missions,  and  also  for  Sabbath 
schools." 

Converted  on  board  a  man-of-war,  and  separated  by 
his  situation  from  the  privileges  of  the  sanctuary,  the 


DR.   CHARLES  H.   BROUGHTON.  273 

heart  of  Dr.  Broughton,  like  that  of  David,  panted  for 
the  courts  of  the  Lord's  house.  His  feelings,  together 
with  his  high  appreciation  of  the  Holy  Scriptures  in  his 
temporary  exile  from  the  house  of  God,  may  be  learned 
from  a  letter  dated  Indian  Key,  June  17, 1842  : — 

"  God  knows  what  is  best  for  me,  but  I  cannot  feel 
here,  while  surrounded  by  persons  whose  associations 
and  habits  influence  me  somewhat,  as  if  I  had  given  my 
whole  soul  to  Christ.  Too  often  do  I  feel  bowed  to  the 
dust  with  shame  that,  having  understood  so  great  salva- 
tion, I  have  not  buckled  on  the  whole  armour  of  God  to 
guard  it  against  all  assaults  of  the  enemy  of  souls.  I 
sometimes  fear  that  my  peace  has  been  presumption,  so 
liable  am  I  to  be  led  away  from  the  Spirit  by  trusting 
for  strength  to  myself.  Oh,  for  the  sympathy  and  com- 
panionship of  Christian  friends  !  Oh,  for  the  benefit  of 
pious  example  and  conversation,  for  holy  Sabbath  days 
and  the  enforcement  of  the  Gospel  by  teachings,  per- 
suasions, and  alarms ! 

"  Yet  God  has  stood  by  me  in  the  greatest  straits, 
and  every  fresh  conviction  of  sin  and  unworthiness  has 
been  joined  with  fresh  conviction  of  the  necessity  of  a 
Saviour.  Like  Pilate,  I  used  often  to  ask,  'What  is 
truth  ?'  and  like  him,  too  often  I  would  not  wait  for  an 
answer.  I  used  to  think  that  truth  was  something  that 
people  wished  or  imagined  to  be  so ;  that  every  man's 
notion  of  what  was  true  depended  upon  prejudice,  and 


274  MEMOIR   OF 

that  all  questions  might  have  as  much  said  upon  one 
side  as  on  the  other.  But  how  different  is  Revealed 
Truth  !  He  that  has  it  knows  it,  feels  it,  it  is  his.  The 
combined  powers  of  the  world  and  of  Satan  cannot  take 
it  from  him ;  it  is  a  part  of  him — the  sure  i  evidence  of 
things  not  seen.' 

"  Oh,  I  have  felt  my  whole  frame  tingle  and  my 
hands  clasp  in  ecstasy,  as  in  the  Bible  the  Spirit  of  truth 
and  love  has  revealed  to  me  mighty  and  wonderful 
things,  such  as  I  could  have  never  known  or  even 
dreamed  of.  And  I  have  hated  the  flesh,  whose  sluggish- 
ness, whose  passions  have  made  us  to  see  these  things 
*  in  part'  only.  Certainly  nothing  can  be  more  powerful 
than  this  truth,  to  comfort,  to  exalt,  to  redeem.  I 
cannot  refrain  in  my  letters  from  pouring  out  my  feel- 
ings to  you  on  this  subject.  They  find  here  no  other 
earthly  vent,  and  you,  I  am  sure,  will  be  interested  by 
them,  while  it  is  a  relief  to  me." 

But  a  short  time  after  this  the  vessel  in  which  Dr. 
Broughton  had  been  an  involuntary  exile  from  the 
means  of  grace,  was  ordered  home,  and  without  delay, 
he  fulfilled  the  vow  he  had  made  in  a  distant  land,  of 
dedicating  himself  wholly  to  the  service  of  God.  On 
November  27,  1842,  together  with  four  others,  one  of 
them  a  converted  Roman  Catholic,  he  made  a  public 
profession  of  the  faith  of  the  Gospel,  and  for  the  first 
time  sat  down  at  the  table  of  Christ  among  his  people. 


DR.    CHARLES  H.   BROUGHTON.  275 

"  How  sweet  and  awful  is  the  place, 

With  Christ  within  the  doors, 
While  everlasting  Love  displays 
The  choicest  of  her  stores  !" 

And  sweet  no  doubt  our  young  brother  felt  it  to  be — a 
day  of  espousals — a  day  of  communion  with  Christ  and 
his  people — a  day  never  to  be  forgotten. 

For  several  months  after  his  connexion  with  the 
church  our  young  friend  held  the  office  of  surgeon  on 
board  a  ship  of  the  line,  then  lying  in  port.  He  now 
enjoyed  the  privilege  of  attending  the  sanctuary  regu- 
larly, and  of  mingling  his  Christian  sympathies  with  those 
of  his.  brethren.  His  pastor  has  often  noticed  the  steady 
fixedness  of  his  dark  eye,  and  the  animated  glow  of  his 
earnest  countenance  under  the  preaching  of  the  word. 
His  ardour  was  amazing,  and  yet  it  was  so  internal,  so 
deep  as  not  to  be  noticed  by  any  save  his  most  intimate 
friends.  He  often  visited  his  pastor  in  his  study  to  con- 
verse about  spiritual  and  eternal  things.  On  most  of 
these  occasions  he  would  replenish  himself  with  Tracts, 
which  he  distributed  among  the  sailors  as  he  had  oppor- 
tunity. For  the  seaman  he  felt  a  deep  sympathy.  He 
knew  his  destitution,  and  had  a  heart  to  relieve,  so  far 
as  he  could,  the  inconveniences  to  which  he  was  subject. 

A  judicious  friend  of  his  having  suggested  to  the 
writer  that  his  talents  might  probably  be  available  for 
the  pulpit,  the  Tract  entitled  "  Call  and  Qualifications 


276  MEMOIR   OP 

for  the  Gospel  Ministry,"  was  put  in  his  hands.  This 
Tract  he  read  carefully  and  with  much  prayer.  It  laid 
before  him  a  field  of  usefulness  larger  than  had  previ- 
ously occurred  to  his  mind.  Many  difficulties,  however, 
arose.  He  was  in  his  country's  service.  He  was  in  not 
only  an  honourable  but  a  useful  profession.  Change  was 
uncertain.  He  might  not  be  qualified — he  might  not  be 
called.  All  these  objections  arose.  His  desire  for  use- 
fulness, however,  had  well  nigh  conquered  them  all 
when  he  was  suddenly  ordered  by  government  to  a 
cruise  among  the  West  India  Islands.  This  circum- 
stance placed  his  mind  in  great  trouble.  As  a  convic- 
tion of  duty,  however,  he  obeyed  his  country's  call,  say- 
ing to  me  as  we  parted,  "  I  hope  to  have  my  mind  made 
up  by  my  return." 

It  appears  from  his  letters  afterwards  that  he  alto- 
gether relinquished  this  idea  of  preaching.  His  humi- 
lity, his  consciousness  of  the  greatness  of  the  work,  to- 
gether probably  with  the  disadvantageous  situation  he 
occupied  to  decide  such  a  question,  brought  him  to  this 
result.  Still,  he  "  being  dead  speaketh ;"  and  the  writer 
earnestly  hopes  that  even  his  quenched  desire  may  excite 
the  heart  of  some  other  of  like  spirit  to  fill  his  place  in 
publishing  salvation  to  a  lost  world. 

The  first  letter  received  from  Dr.  Broughton  after 
his  departure  was  dated  Nassau,  New  Providence,  Jan. 
20,  1843.  In  this  he  writes— 


DR.   CHARLES  H.   BROUGHTON.  277 

"  I  feel  much  ashamed  of  the  despondency  I  exhib- 
ited just  before  leaving  home.  I  knew  that  I  was  about 
to  be  subjected  to  trial  and  privation ;  and  looking  only 
to  myself  I  felt  discouraged  and  afraid  of  sinking.-  The 
Lord,  however,  has  graciously  stretched  out  his  hand  to 
me  though  of  little  faith,  and  so  far  I  have  had  blessed 
experience  that  he  will  not  forsake  those  who  look  to 
him  for  help.  I  am  amazed  at  myself  that  I  have  had 
so  little  faith.  If  God's  ways  were  as  our  ways,  or  his 
thoughts  as  our  thoughts,  I  should  long  ago  have  fallen 
from  his  favour.  But  while  Christ  ever  liveth  to  make 
intercession,  Oh  who  or  what  shall  separate  us  from  the 
love  of  God?" 

The  following  letter,  dated  Matanzas,  Cuba,  Feb. 
20,  will  be  read  with  interest : — 

"  One  could  scarcely  imagine  a  situation  more  un- 
favourable than  mine  for  reading  and  meditation,  and 
yet  I  am  surprised  to  find  that  I  can  acquire  and  digest 
knowledge  here  as  well  almost  as  under  more  convenient 
circumstances.  The  frivolous  conversation  that  is  often 
carried  on  around  me  creates  a  want  of  occupation,  and 
books  and  self-study  come  kindly  in  to  supply  it.  My 
slothful  flesh  tries  hard  to  wheedle  me  into  the  belief 
that  there  is  *  a  lion  in  the  way,'  and  that  it  is  useless  to 
try  to  read ;  but  I  am  otherwise  constrained  to  make  the 
effort,  which  is  generally  successful.  I  also  find  much 
time  when  the  officers  are  asleep  or  keeping  their  watch 
24 


278  MEMOIR   OF 

on  deck.  I  have  thus  read  Scott's  £  Force  of  Truth,' 
Newton's  '  Life  and  Letters,'  '  Mammon,'  several  tracts, 
and  have  made  progress  in  familiarizing  myself  with  our 
larger  catechism. 

"  Passages  of  the  Bible  are  sometimes  brought  home 
to  my  heart  with  great  force,  though  generally  my  con- 
ceptions are  not  so  clear  as  I  could  wish.  This,  how- 
ever, is  an  incentive  to  perseverance  and  diligence. 
Mammon  is  a  very  scrutinizing  book,  and  I  trust  it  has 
done  me  good.  It  has  certainly  opened  my  eyes  to  be- 
hold a  beauty  in  economy,  which  the  phlegmatic  maxims 
of  Franklin  could  never  bring  me  to  perceive.  Newton, 
too,  I  have  enjoyed  much.  One  of  his  letters  seemed  to 
take  scales  from  my  eyes,  and  gave  me  a  clue  to  under- 
stand, how,  through  a  dark  period  of  doubt  and  distress, 
an  unseen  hand  had  been  keeping  alive  the  fire  in  my 
heart  which  Satan  was  striving  to  quench.  I  can  now 
bless  the  hand  that  chastened  me,  and  own  with  wonder 
and  admiration  that  he  doeth  all  things  well.  Now  I 
know,  not  because  of  what  was  told  me,  but  because  '  I 
have  seen  him  and  heard  him  myself.' 

"  I  see  the  hand  of  God  in  many  of  the  events  of  my 
past  life,  how  he  has  been  before  me  as  a  refiner  of  sil- 
ver, waiting  for  me  with  compassionate  forbearance,  and 
wooing  me  to  take  his  image  while  I  have  been  heaping 
dross  in  the  way,  and  my  neck  has  been  a  sinew  of  iron, 
and  my  brow  brass.  And  what  is  man's  heart,  that  God 


DR.   CHARLES   H.   BROUGHTON.  279 

should  love  it  so,  and  be  resolved  to  win  it?  It  is 
strange  enough  that  he  should  stoop  to  save  us ;  but  how 
much  more  wonderful  is  it  that  he  should  draw  us  to  him 
against  our  efforts ! 

"  You  would  scarcely  believe  me,  were  I  to  tell  you 
what  narrow  conceptions  I  had  formed  of  God's  love, 
and  how  ignorant  I  was  of  his  ways.  A  short  time  be- 
fore I  left  home  I  read  in  Pilgrim's  Progf  ess  the  descrip- 
tion of  the  man  in  the  iron  cage,  and  my  heart  feared 
that  the  case  was  mine ;  it  was  so  much  like  what  I  felt, 
it  was  so  much  like  what  I  deserved.  Like  David  I  was 
afraid  lest  I  should  one  day  perish.  But  He  who  know- 
eth  our  frame  sustained  me  by  his  word  which  preached 
perseverance  in  so  many  places  that  even  unbelief  was 
convinced,  and  I  was  enabled  calmly  to  wait  for  him 
who  'has  the  words  of  eternal  life.'  Since  then  I  trust 
I  am  prepared  to  say,  in  whatever  frame  I  am,  *  Hope 
thou  in  God,  for  I  shall  yet  praise  him.' 

"It  is  a  great  source  of  comfort  to  study  the  provi- 
dence of  God  towards  me,  and  to  see  in  many  apparent 
evils  how  much  good  can  be  extracted.  He  has  disap- 
pointed hopes  that  I  had  formed  of  earthly  happiness, 
only  that  I  might  seek  and  prize  the  more  the  l  rest'  that 
'remaineth.'  He  has  placed  me  here  amid  trial  and 
privation,  that  I  may  learn  my  own  weakness,  and  be 
taught  to  rely  solely  on  him.  He  has  taken  me,  so  young 
in  grace,  from  those  means  and  ordinances  by  which  his 


MEMOIR   OP 

efreshes  others,  that  I  might  look  immediately  to 
niu*  thout  helps  and  aids. 

"  One  thing  at  first  distressed  me  much,  the  limited 
sphere  of  usefulness  in  which  I  live.  I  am  now  sure, 
however,  that  there  are  few  situations  on  earth  in  which 
a  conscientious  Christian  cannot  make  himself  useful. 
Even  in  the  midst  of  worldly  associations  he  can  observe 
the  specious  arguments  by  which  unbelief  hides  itself  in 
the  natural  heart,  and  knowing  himself  to  have  been 
similarly  deceived,  he  can  endeavour  to  convince  others 
that  Eternal  Life  consists  not  in  vain  speculations  about 
'fixed  fate,  free  will,  fore-knowledge  absolute,'  nor  in 
the  adoption  of  the  mere  forms  of  church  worship ;  but 
in  repentance  unto  life  and  faith  in  the  atonement  of 
Christ.  This,  to  be  sure,  is  looked  upon  as  puritanical ; 
and  human  reason  will  rather  delight  itself  in  measuring 
eternal  truth  by  its  own  standard,  than  in  considering 
itself  imperfect,  and  that  faith  in  God's  revealed  word  is 
the  only  true  wisdom. 

"  It  is  something,  however,  to  tell  such  that  they  are 
wrong,  and  to  have  good  books  at  hand  which  they  will 
sometimes  read,  if  from  no  other  motive,  to  fill  up  the 
vacancy  of  their  time.  I  have  also  an  additional  privi- 
lege. The  captain  has  requested  me  to  read  prayers  on 
Sundays ;  and  then  I  can  select  what  parts  of  Scripture 
I  wish  to  read,  and  with  God's  help  I  shall  not  be  want- 


DR.    CHARLES   H.    BROUGIITON.  281 

ing  in  a  word  of  exhortation,  though  not  a  prophet  n*or 
a  prophet's  son." 

We  have  already  noticed  the  fact  that  Dr.  Broughton 
when  leaving  home  had  serious  thoughts  of  preparing 
for  the  Christian  ministry.  The  following  letter  from 
Pensacola,  dated  April  24,  alludes  to  this  subject,  and 
also  exhibits  the  deep  interest  he  felt  in  the  spiritual 
welfare  of  seamen : — 

"  The  denunciations  of  the  Bible  against  time  unim- 
proved and  duty  unperformed,  and  the  promises  held  out 
to  even  feeble  attempts,  had  filled  my  mind  with  the 
desire  to  devote  myself  to  a  cause  in  which  I  might  hope, 
by  the  Divine  blessing,  to  be  in  some  humble  degree 
useful.  But  my  charity  was  unwilling  to  begin  where  it 
should  have  done.  Sloth  and  selfishness  magnified  the 
difficulties  I  should  encounter  among  thos6  around  me, 
till  it  seemed  a  matter  almost  impossible  that  I  should 
be  useful  here ;  and  I  am  ashamed  while  I  make  the 
confession,  that  the  privations  I  must  endure  in  my  pre- 
sent position,  and  the  constant  need  for  caution  and 
watching  lest  the  cause  of  Christ  should  suffer  reproach 
through  my  weakness,,  may  have  had  some  influence  in 
clouding  my  understanding  and  directing  my  thoughts 
to  the  sacrifice  of  myself  that  I  proposed  to  make. 

"  I  had  not  then  experienced  how  prone  the  heart  is 
to  pervert  the  leadings  of  the  Spirit,  by  mixing  with  them 
the  desires  of  our  own  foolish  and  fond  imaginations. 
24* 


282  MEMOIR   OF 

Nor  had  I  then  reflected  that  many  sailors  were  them- 
selves heathen,  so  far  as  the  lack  of  Gospel  preaching, 
and  minds  darkened  by  ignorance  and  superstition,  and 
hearts  under  the  dominion  of  Satan,  could  so  be  consi- 
dered. But  now  that  Christian  philanthropy  has  opened 
her  heart  to  them,  and  persons  unconnected  with  them 
are  seeking  their  welfare,  it  certainly  became  me,  from 
my  relation  to  them  and  from  the  peculiar  opportunities 
I  possess,  to  take  up  their  cause  and  to  endeavour  to 
help  it  forward-  by  whatever  means  the  Lord  has  given 
me." 

In  another  letter,  June  16,  he  says,  "  I  have  seen  no 
reason  to  regret  the  conclusion  I  was  brought  to  on  the 
subject  of  the  ministry :  on  the  contrary,  in  a  letter 
from  Mobile,  containing  information  that  a  present  of 
tbe  Evangelical  Library  had  been  made  to  the  crew  of 
the  B.,  I  have  been  encouraged  by  the  expression  that 
4  the  moral  advancement  of  the  seamen  around  me  was 
the  noblest  of  all  ends ;'  and  I  hope  to  make  it  my  chief 
concern  hereafter  to  be  conscientious  in  the  discharge 
of  this  duty." 

A  short  time  after  this  we  find  his  vessel  again  cruis- 
ing among  the  West  India  Islands.  While  at  Havana 
he  fell  in  with  a  congenial  spirit,  a  young  physician  from 
the  United  States,  who  was  "  exerting  himself  as  far  as 
he  had  the  power,  to  spread  the  knowledge  of  the  truth 
around  him,"  of  whom  he  says,  "  The  doctor's  company 


DR.    CHARLES    H.    BROUGHTON.  283 

was  a  great  comfort  to  me,  and  has  strengthened  and 
encouraged  me  not  a  little." 

With  the  exception  of  a  small  note,  the  following  is 
the  last  of  Dr.  Broughton's  letters,  dated  Pensacola, 
Nov.  2,  1843. 

"  Ere  long  I  hope,  arid  believe  that  God  will  direct 
my  way  to  you  all,  though  I  must  saj4hat  the  plea- 
surable anticipations  I  had  formed  of  this  event  have 
been  not  a  little  diminished  by  the  painful  intelligence 
you  communicate  of  the  apparently  declining  state  of 
religion  in  the  church.  My  great  desire  of  returning 
among  you  was,  that  I  might  have  my  faith  increased 
and  strengthened  by  the  example  and  counsel  of  faithful 
Christians,  that  I  might  be  better  able  to  make  known 
among  men  the  ways  of  God.  I  trust  that  the  hope  of 
increasing  mere  selfish  comfort  and  enjoyment  was  only 
a  secondary  motive,  for  I  have  learned  in  part  to  bear 
with  contentment  the  privation  of  these,  in  the  belief 
that  an  eternity  of  enjoyment  will  be  sufficient  to  satisfy 
my  most  longing  desires. 

"  Wherever  I  go,  the  cry  of  creation  groaning  under 
the  curse  enters  my  ear,  and  the  voice  within  me,  whis- 
pers, 'What  art  thou,  0,  atom?  that  thou  shouldest 
regard  thyself;  that  thou  shouldest  bury  God's  talent  in 
the  ground,  or  consume  his  Spirit  on  thy  lusts  !'  Feeble 
indeed  have  my  efforts  been,  but  God  despiseth  not  '  the 
day  of  small  things.' 


284  MEMOIR   OF 

"  Since  God  has  enlarged  my  confidence  in  Him,  I 
am  less  perplexed  with  the  superiority  of  others  in 
natural  endowments,  and  I  can  argue  in  a  spirit  of  more 
candour  than  formerly,  being  now  more  desirous  of  ele- 
vating the  truth  than  of  exalting  myself.  I  have  so 
often  failed  when  venturing  in  my  own  strength  to 
defend  the  truth  of  God,  in  consequence  of  the  greater 
ability  of  some  of  my  associates,  that  I  am  now  quite 
willing  that  God  should  defend  His  own  truth,  and  con- 
tent myself  with  opposing  i  the  sword  of  the  Spirit'  to 
the  lovers  of  the  world,  trusting  that  its  Author  will 
cause  it  to  smite  where  He  willeth  that  they  should  have 
repentance  and  the  knowledge  of  Him.  There  are 
many  kinds  of  voices  in  the  world  which  speak  of  God 
to  these  men,  and  though  they  have  least  disposition  to 
listen  to  the  plainest  one,  yet  all  the  others  are  but  the 
echoes  of  this,  and  with  proper  light  may  be  known  to 
depend  upon  it.  It  is  in  this  way  that  conversation 
upon  almost  any  subject  may  be  brought  home  to  the 
word  of  God,  and  thus  rendered  profitable. 

"  But  let  me  tell  you  of  one  application  I  made  of 
the  texts  you  quoted  in  your  letter.  Since  God  has 
enlarged  my  confidence  in  Him,  I  have  discovered  my 
relationship  by  grace  to  a  much  larger  family  than  that 
lo  which  I  am  bound  by  nature,  and  although  His  Spirit 
aas  prompted  me  to  pray  with  much  earnestness  for  the 
mlargement  and  establishment  of  His  kingdom  upon 


DR.    CHARLES  H.   BROUGHTON.  285 

earth,  yet  I  have  been  led  to  regard  with  special  interest 
in  prayer  my  own  family  and  church.  This  I  know 
is  often  with  you  aU  a  subject  of  prayer,  and  we  must 
pray  in  faith,  that  God  may  grant  our  requests.  I 
believe  that  He  does  answer  prayer  thus  offered,  not 
only  from  His  word  and  the  experience  of  Christians 
of  whom  I  have  read  or  with  whom  I  have  conversed, 
but  also  from  indubitable  evidence  in  iny  own  experi- 
ence. I  think,  too,  that  the  experience  of  churches  is 
the  same  with  that  of  individual  Christians,  and  that 
sunshine  and  clouds  are  necessary  to  the  perfecting  of 
faith  in  both. 

"  We  are  all  short-sighted,  but  experience  has  taught 
me,  at  no  small  cost,  what  I  dare  say  it  must  teach  all, 
that  in  the  day  when  the  candle  of  the  Lord  shines  upon 
us,  we  are  prone  to  be  satisfied  with  ourselves,  and,  to 
use  your  own  words,  'to  think  it  impossible  that  we 
should  ever  get  back  to  our  former  cold  state.'  We  are 
apt  in  this  condition  to  imagine  that  we  have  a  supply 
of  God's  grace,  which  will  last  us  at  least  for  some  time 
to  come,  and  thus  grow  careless  about  the  use  of  the 
means  of  sustaining  our  spiritual  life.  The  manna, 
however,  that  is  so  covetously  laid  up,  corrupts,  and  we 
discover  by  sad  experience  that  as  natural  life  must  be 
supported  by  daily  food,  equally  true  is  it  that  only  daily 
supplies  can  sustain  the  life  and  viguor  of  our  faith.  If 
the  means  are  used  with  the  belief  that  God  will  deliver 


286  MEMOIR  OF 

us,  even  our  temporary  decline  will  become  a  blessing, 
for  in  overcoming  it  we  shall  have  greater  strength  and 
confidence  than  before.  Perseverance  in  effort  is  the 
kind  of  faith  that  I  have  found  to  remove  mountains. 
It  is  not  sighing  but  running  that  wins  the  race.  I 
have  found  no  remedy  for  suffering  and  for  distressing 
thoughts  like  doing.  Active  obedience  is  the  evidence 
of  that  faith  which  quenches  all  the  fiery  darts  of  Satan. 
If  then  we,  who  are  members  of  an  unhealthy  church, 
are  patient  and  faithful,  we  can  confidently  expect  that 
God  will  answer  our  prayers,  and  that  bread  thus  cast 
upon  the  waters  will  return  after  many  days. 

"I  am  afraid,  from  consciousness  of  my  youth  and 
want  of  wisdom,  that  what  I  have  written  may  have  been 
written  with  the  haste  of  presumption,  and  may  be  so 
considered  by  you ;  but  it  has  been  the  result  of  experi- 
mental reading  of  God's  word  and  of  prayer,  and  I  have 
expressed  myself  thus,  not  because  I  think  I  know  the 
truth  more  or  better  than  others,  but  because  I  think 
that  the  ways  of  God  to  me  have  been  wonderful,  and 
that  the  experience  of  the  humblest  child  of  God  may 
be  read  by  others  with  profit." 

But  a  short  time  after  the  date  of  the  above,  Dr. 
Broughton  commenced  his  voyage  homeward.  While 
stopping  a  short  time  in  the  West  Indies,  he  was  seized 
with  fever.  It  was  principally  of  a  nervous  character, 


DR.    CHARLES   H.    BROUGHTON.  287 

and  seemed  to  threaten  his  life.  He  reached  home, 
however,  early  in  the  next  month.  He  was  emaciated, 
and  his  appearance  excited  the  sympathy  of  all  who 
saw  him.  He  survived  about  two  weeks.  On  the  22d 
of  December,  1843,  he  breathed  his  last,  calmly  reclining 
on  the  bosom  of  God  his  Saviour. 

His  exercises  on  his  deathbed  were  deeply  interest- 
ing, but  were  frequently  interrupted  by  mental  aberra- 
tions. On  one  occasion  he  said  to  his  mother,  "  I  saw 
myself  all  pollution  and  sin ;  and  it  seems  to  me  that 
just  a  drop  of  a  Saviour's  blood  fell  on  me,  which  re- 
moved all  my  pollutions,  and  gave  me  acceptance  with 
God." 

Just  before  he  expired,  he.  leaped  up  in  the  bed,  ex- 
claiming, "Where  is  Abraham's  bosom?  Where  is 
Abraham's  bosom  ?"  The  physician  in  attendance  re- 
plied, "Doctor,  Abraham  is  not  here." — "Abraham  not 
here!"  he  exclaimed  with  amazement — "Abraham  not 
here  !"  and  fell  back  upon  his  pillow,  and  died  !  Thus 
vanished  into  the  light  of  heaven  this  blaze  of  piety, 
which  God  had  so  wonderfully  created  and  sustained. 


r. 


"Reason  is  a  rebel  unto  faith,  and  considers  her  propositions  as 
absurd.  There  are  a  set  of  heads,  that  can  credit  the  relations  of 
mariners,  yet  question  the  testimonies  of  St.  Paul ;  and  peremptorily 
maintain  the  traditions  of  JElian  or  Pliny,  yet  in  histories  of  Scrip- 
ture raise  queries  and  objections ;  believing  no  more  than  they  can 

parallel  in  human  authors." 

SIR  THOMAS  BROWNE,  M.  D. 


(290) 


CONVERSION  OF 
DE.     CAPADOSB, 

A  JEWISH  PHYSICIAN  OF  AMSTERDAM. 


NO,  my  dear  friends,  I  will  no  longer  decline  to  meet 
your  pressing  demands,  or  to  fulfil  the  engagement 
under  which  you  have  placed  me,  to  relate  to  you  how  it 
pleased  the  God  of  all  grace  to  call  me  to  the  knowledge 
of  himself,  and  bring  me  from  darkness  to  his  mar- 
vellous light.  My  soul  is  vividly,  is  deeply  convinced, 
that  it  has  never  of  itself  sought  the  Lord ;  but  that  the 
arm  of  his  compassion  was  extended  to  it  while  in  its 
lost  condition.  It  would  then  be  false  modesty  to  refuse 
you  that  which,  communicated  in  conversation,  appeared 
somewhat  edifying  to  many  dear  friends,  who  saw  in  it 
the  Saviour's  unspeakable  love  for  so  wretched  a  sinner, 
and  felt  themselves  urged  to  glorify  his  name. 

By  birth  a  Portuguese  Jew,  I  was,  nevertheless,  far 
from  being  a  zealot  in  the  cause  of  the  religion  of  my 

(291) 
* 


292  CONVERSION   OF 

ancestors.  Mj  education  had  been  moral  rather  than 
religious,  inspiring  me  with  horror  of  vice,  and  love  for 
what  the  world  styles  virtue ;  but  the  goodness  of  God. 
alone  preserved  me  from  open  impiety,  somewhat  later 
in  life. 

At  an  early  age  I  was  ardently  engaged  in  the 
pursuit  of  literature  and  science :  though  living  in  society, 
and  enthusiastically  fond  of  the  theatre,  balls,  and  all 
worldly  amusements,  I  derived  even  greater  satisfaction 
from  study.  In  my  youth,  also,  I  became  acquainted 
with  the  writings  of  Voltaire  and  Rousseau ;  but  the 
insolidity,  the  infidelity,  and,  above  all,  the  terrible  con- 
sequences of  their  systems,  unfolded  to  my  eyes  in  the 
history  of  the  French  revolution,  guarded  me,  through 
the  grace  that  cometh  down  from  on  high,  against  their 
pernicious  influence. 

As  I  was  destined  by  my  parents  for  the  profession 
of  physic,  I  began  to  acquire  the  knowledge  necessary 
for  that  vocation,  although  feeling  a  stronger  attraction 
to  the  theoretical  sciences  and  philosophical  investiga- 
tion. The  circle  of  my  acquaintance  consisted  of  young 
persons,  nominally  Christians ;  and  our  debates  at  the 
academy  generally  turned  upon  the  antinomianism  of 
Kant,  or  the  philosophy  of  Plato ;  in  short,  upon  all 
kinds  of  abstract  questions. 

The  Lord  had  given  me  a  friend  (Mr.  Dacosta)  in 
the  bosom  of  my  kindred.  Both  of  us  Jews,  and 


DR.   CAPADOSE.  293 

intimate  friends  from  our  infancy,  we  had  similar  views 
on  many  subjects,  and  the  same  circle  of  acquaintance. 
A  "savant"  of  the  academy  of  Ley  den  (the  celebrated 
Bilderdeck),  a  man  of  extraordinary  genius,  a  distin- 
guished poet,  an  excellent  historian,  a  profound  philoso- 
pher, and  above  all,  a  true  disciple  of  Christ,  assembled 
around  him  at  that  time  a  few  studious  young  men.  My 
friend,  who  had  long  known  him,  and  I,  were  among  the 
number  of  his  auditors.  He  honoured  us  with  peculiar 
affection ;  and  his  conversations  contributed  not  a  little, 
under  God,  to  direct  my  mind  to  serious  contemplation. 
Though  he  never  spoke  to  me  of  Christianity  before  my 
conversion,  he,  nevertheless,  exercised  a  great  and 
salutary  influence  over  my  heart.  The  vivacity  and 
fervour  of  his  soul,  the  nobleness  of  his  sentiments,  the 
force  of  his  logic,  the  depth  and  extent  of  his  knowledge, 
joined  to  an  ardent  desire  of  being  useful  to  youth,  all 
concurred  to  enrapture  us.  But  no  love  of  a  spiritual 
religion  had  yet  entered  my  heart. 

It  is  true  that  in  early  childhood,  at  the  age  of  nine 
years,  I  felt  the  need  of  prayer ;  and  asked  my  Jewish 
parents  for  a  prayer-book  in  the  French  or  Dutch  lan- 
guage, that  I  might  be  enabled  to  comprehend  the  object 
of  my  prayers.  I  urged  my  brother  and  sister  to  do 
likewise.  This  seems  the  more  remarkable,  since  I  had 
seldom  observed  thos'e  around  me  pray.  From  that 
hour  I  have  not  ceased  to  perform  this  duty,  through  all 
25* 


294  CONVERSION   OF 

the  changes  of  life ;  and  I  may  add,  that  this  prayer 
formed  my  only  worship  up  to  the  time  of  my  conver- 
sion. This  form  ended  with  these  remarkable  words : 
"  I  wait  thy  deliverance,  0  Lord  !" 

I  have  retained  the  book,  and  never  cast  my  eyes  on 
it  without  being  melted,  and  adoring  the  goodness  of  the 
God  of  my  deliverance,  who  hath  deigned  to  give  me, 
in  maturer  age,  what  the  child  of  nine  years  ceased  not 
to  pray  for  every  night,  though  ignorant  of  the  meaning 
of  his  request. 

During  the  period  of  my  studies,  these  moments  of 
peculiar  emotion  returned,  leaving  very  deep  traces  in 
my  mind.  I  remember  that  a  poor  woman  was  in 
the  habit  of  singing  psalms  in  the  street  on  Saturday 
evening,  to  excite  the  compassion  of  passers  by.  More 
than  once  I  left  my  books,  when  the  singing  of  pious 
hymns  reached  my  ears,  being  irresistibly  drawn  to  the 
window,  and  there  I  remained  fixed  under  the  weight  of 
sensations  I  could  not  define.  The  same  thing  occurred 
to  me  when,  on  Sabbath  morning,  I  heard  the  melody 
of  psalms  rise  from  under  the  vaulted  roof  of  a  neigh- 
bouring church. 

I  went  frequently  to  the  theatre.  One  evening, 
when  "Joseph  in  Egypt"  was  represented,  I  had  no 
sooner  heard  the  first  words  of  the  morning  hymn,  in 
imitation  of  the  Hebrew,  than,  full  of  patriotic  emotion, 
I  felt  my  tears  flowing.  Alas !  it  was  only  an  illusion 


DR.    CAPADOSE.  295 

before  me ;  and  profound  sorrow  soon  succeeded  this 
sweet  dream  in  which  I  had  been  absorbed. 

At  the  synagogue,  which  I  continued  to  attend  for 
the  sake  of  decorum,  nothing  affected  me  in  the  least ; 
on  the  contrary,  those  heartless  ceremonies,  that  want 
of  respect,  those  shouts,  those  discordant  songs,  and  the 
use  of  a  tongue  unknown  to  more  than  three-fourths  of 
the  assembly — all  this  spiritless  and  lifeless  display  so 
disgusted  me  that  I  no  longer  attended  regularly ;  for  I 
had  ever  abhorred  hypocrisy. 

Nevertheless,  to  give  us  a  change,  and  as  if  he  liad 
caught  a  glimpse  of  what  was  about  to  happen  some 
years  later,  the  tempter  put  it  into  the  heart  of  my 
friend,  and  mine,  to  alter  our  mode  of  life.  Both  of  us 
enemies  to  half  measures,  and  not  being  able  to  suit 
ourselves  with  this  modern  Judaism,  which  had  invented 
the  art  of  taking  up,  or  laying  aside,  according  to  con- 
venience, the  different  injunctions  of  the  Mosaic  law,  we 
firmly  resolved  to  become  true  Israelites,  rigid  observers 
of  every  article  of  the  law,  intimidated  by  no  authority, 
and  compelling  even  Christians  to  respect  the  Jewish 
nation. 

National  pride,  that  sentiment  which  in  boyhood  led 
me  to  say  to  my  good  mother,  on  seeing  her  afflicted, 
u  Be  consoled,  mother ;  when  I  am  grown  up  I  will  carry 
you  to  Jerusalem;"  increased  amazingly  at  this  epoch, 
and  took  the  place  of  every  other  emotion. 


296 


CONVERSION   OF 


It  was  in  this  disposition  of  heart,  and  with  these 
resolutions,  that  we  undertook  the  assiduous  reading  of 
the  Bible.  But,  0  disgrace !  0  wretchedness  of  the 
unconverted  soul  ?  we  could  go  no  further  than  Genesis  ! 
Incessant  irony,  a  spirit  of  mockery,  and  often  even 
(Lord,  enter  not  into  judgment  with  us  !)  blasphemy  was 
upon  our  lips  while  engaged  in  prayer.  And  this  was 
carried  to  such  a  height  that  I  ended  by  saying  to  my 
friend,  that  it  were  better  to  renounce  our  reading  than 
to  conduct  it  in  this  manner. 

Our  plans  for  eminence  in  the  Jewish  religion 
vanished  like  smoke.  The  termination  of  my  professional 
studies  was  at  hand :  this  was  in  1818.  I  took  my 
degree  in  medicine,  and  left  the  academy  where  my  time 
had  not  been  altogether  wasted.  I  returned  to  my 
native  city,  Amsterdam,  full  of  high  expectations  for 
the  future:  a  fair  and  honourable  career  seemed  to 
open  before  me. 

I  had  an  uncle,  one  of  the  first  physicians  of.  Hol- 
land, a  literary  man,  and  justly  esteemed  by  the  best 
families.  He  possessed  public  confidence,  not  only  as  a 
physician,  but  also  on  account  of  his  social  relations. 
Without  children,  he  took  me  home  to  be  his  son  and 
successor.  I  was  soon  introduced  to  a  rich  circle  of 
families ;  very  worthy  and  honourable,  doubtless,  but  with 
whom  Christianity  was  nothing  more  than  an  exterior 
profession,  attended  by  a  life  altogether  worldly. 


DK.    CAPADOSE.  297 

Although  for  some  years  I  had  been  oftener  in  the 
society  of  Christians  than  in  that  of  my  fellow-religionists, 
I  am  sure  that  none  ever  spoke  to  me  of  Christianity. 
My  friends  and  young  colleagues,  with  whom  I  often 
passed  several  evenings  of  the  week,  did  not  appear  to 
have  the  smallest  idea  of  religion.  I  remember  that 
once,  the  conversation  falling  on  Christianity,  they  made 
a  display  of  their  infidelity,  and  spoke/with  very  little 
respect  of  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  I  expressed  my 
astonishment ;  adding,  that  I,  a  Jew,  did  not  believe  in 
Jesus  Christ ;  but  that,  in  my  opinion,  every  Christian, 
who,  disbelieving  that  Jesus  Christ  is  Grod,  still  con- 
tinued to  offer  prayer  and  homage  to  him,  was  an 
idolater  I 

One  of  these  young  physicians  was  happily  converted 
some  years  later :  he  recalled  to  my  mind  the  conver- 
sation of  that  evening,  and  assured  me  how  confused  he 
had  been,  that  so  severe  and  yet  so  merited  an  apos- 
trophe should  be  uttered  by  the  mouth  of  a  Jew.  He  is 
at  this  time  one  of  my  dear  brethren  in  Jesus  Christ, 
and  walks  with  much  faith  and  fidelity.  How  admirable 
are  thy  ways,  0  Lord !  and  thy  judgments,  how 
righteous  ! 

Nevertheless,  in  the  midst  of  daily  increasing  occu- 
pations, though  surrounded  by  all  the  comforts  of  life,  I 
was  far  from  being  inwardly  happy.  The  desire  of 
knowledge,  the  thirst  after  scientific  truths,  augmented 


298  CONVERSION   OF 

within  me,  as  worldly  pleasures  daily  grew  more  sick- 
ening. But  all  my  researches,  all  my  studies,  all  my 
endeavours  to  satisfy  the  internal  want  that  tormented 
me,  continued  fruitless,  and  left  a  frightful  void  in  my 
soul. 

During  long  sleepless  nights,  occasioned  by  an  op- 
pression of  the  chest,  from  which  I  had  been  a  frequent 
sufferer  in  my  youth,  I  asked  myself,  in  the  midst  of  sad 
reflections,  why  I  was  on  the  earth  ?  "  What  is  man  ?" 
said  I  to  myself.  "  Should  I  not  be  a  thousand  times 
happier  if  I  were  only  an  inferior  creature,  an  inhabitant 
of  the  air,  a  worm  of  the  earth  ?  It  is  true  I  should 
move  in  a  narrower  sphere;  but  then  I  should  not 
undergo  what  I  am  now  suffering  in  mind  and  body." 
Many  a  time,  at  the  close  of  my  evening  prayer,  which 
I  uttered  aloud,  my  heart  added,  "  would  that  this  were 
the  last  day  of  my  life  1" 

I  have  preserved  the  correspondence  that  I  held  with 
two  of  my  friends :  the  contents  of  their  letters  vividly 
recalls  to  mind  my  sufferings  at  that  time.  One  of  these 
letters  commences  with  these  words  :  "I  cannot  express 
to  you,  dear  friend,  the  shock  your  letter  has  given  me. 
Your  melancholy  seems  to  assume  the  character  of  des- 
pair ;  and  what  must  be  the  consequence  with  a  consti- 
tution so  feeble  and  a  heart  so  sensitive  as  yours  ?  No, 
your  body  cannot  hold  out,  dear  friend ;  I  fear  that  you 
will  soon  succumb,"  &c.  Then  follows  some  advice, 


DK.    CAPADOSE.  299 

which,  though  dictated  by  the  kindest  friendship,  was  yet 
wanting  in  what  constitutes  the  spirit  of  all  true  conso- 
lation. 

My  mode  of  life  dissatisfied  me.  Eager  in  quest  of 
truth ;  seeking  everywhere  a  certain  principle,  there  was 
not  a  day  of  my  life  passed  without,  alas  !  the  deplorable 
necessity  of  acknowledging  the  uncertainty  of  the 
science  to  which  I  was  devoted.  I  enjoyed,  indeed,  the 
confidence  of  my  patients ;  and  by  the  grace  of  God, 
was  what  is  called  a  fortunate  physician ;  yet  I  passed 
my  days  in  painful  constraint. 

My  uncle,  the  worthy  old  gentleman  in  whose  house  I 
was  residing,  fatigued  by  the  numerous  occupations  of 
the  day,  was  not  pleased  to  see  me  consecrating  the 
evening  hours  to  study.  Impatient  to  give  myself  up 
to  some  occupation  more  suited  to  my  taste,  I  was  free 
only  at  nigRt,  and  thus  contracted  the  habit  of  sitting 
up  till  a  very  late  hour.  Nevertheless,  all  this  midnight 
labour  left  still  existing  in  my  heart  the  frightful  void 
which  so  embittered  life.  It  was  not  that  I  felt  any 
disquietude  for  my  sins ;  assuredly  not,  for  in  that  case 
I  should  have  shuddered  to  demand  death :  I  was  under 
the  weight  and  curse  of  sin,  without  suspecting  it,  or 
even  seeking  a  remedy. 

One  day,  going  to  see  my  intimate  friend,  who  was 
just  married,  I  found  that  he  had  received  a  letter  from 
our  celebrated  professor,  with  whom  he  kept  up  #,  liter- 


300  CONVERSION   OF 

ary  correspondence.  "Will  you  listen  to  his  letter," 
said  he,  "  and  hear  with  what  fine  verses  he  addresses 
me  ?"  Willingly,  I  replied.  The  lines,  in  which  he  de- 
scribed with  energy  and  fervour  the  glorious  hopes  of 
Israel,  were  in  truth  sublime:  they  ended  with  this 
apostrophe : — "  If  thou,  dear  friend,  the  Christian's  name 
will  take,  contented  I'll  my  spirit  yield.  My  life  were 
a  small  boon  to  give  for  thy  soul's  sake  !" 

At  these  words,  pronounced  in  a  low  tone,  I  felt  my 
indignation  aroused ;  it  appeared  to  me  that  my  friend 
had  not  been  sufficiently  shocked  at  them.  "  Take  care," 
said  I,  "  there  is  a  plan  formed  to  seduce  us ;"  and  then 
hastily  departed. 

The  whole  day  my  mind  remained  absorbed  and  lost 
in  meditation.  I  could  not  conceive  how  a  man  of  such 
profound  science  could  believe  in  the  Christian  religion  ; 
nor  how  one  who,  for  so  many  years,  had*  kept  up  the 
closest  intimacy  with  me,  without  ever  speaking  to  us  of 
Christianity ;  who  even  appeared  to  have  so  much  respect 
for  the  Old  Testament,  should  suddenly  resolve  to  speak 
to  my  friend  in  this  tone.  My  heart,  naturally  inclined 
to  mistrust,  saw  here  only  an  adroit  attempt  to  seduce  us 
from  our  religion,  and  I  suffered  from  the  thought  that 
my  friend  did  not  partake  thoroughly  of  my  indig- 
nation. 

From  that  day  I  took  up  the  word  of  God  with  the 
intention  of  examining  it.  My  friend  did  the  same ; 


DR.   CAPADOSE.  301 

and  afterwards,  whenever  we  walked  out  together,  our 
conversation  turned  on  passages  of  Scripture  that  espe- 
cially fixed  our  attention.  Having  begun  with  the  Gos- 
pel according  to  Matthew,  I  was  struck,  in  the  com- 
mencement, on  seeing  how  this  evangelist,  very  far  from 
reversing  the  authority  of  the  Old  Testament,  RESTED 
UPON  IT,  on  the  contrary,  as  his  basis,  and  proposed 
nothing  more  than  to  prove  the  unity  of  the  two  Testa- 
ments in  the  accomplishment  of  the  prophecies. 

In  this  way  many  months  passed,  when,  more  and 
more  encouraged  to  pursue  researches  that  daily  afforded 
us  greater  interest,  we  resolved  to  effect  what  we  had 
attempted  some  years  earlier,  though  with  a  very  differ- 
ent disposition  of  heart :  it  was  to  meet  as  often  as  pos- 
sible, to  read  together  and  communicate  our  doubts  and 
reflections  to  each  other.  To  this  effect  we  retired  to  a 
corner  of  the  paternal  mansion ;  and  it  is  not  without 
vivid  emotion,  nor  without  adoring  the  goodness  and 
wisdom  of  God,  that  I  recall  the  remembrance  of  those 
happy  moments,  those  hours  so  agreeable  and  so  blessed, 
that  we  passed  together,  as  it  were  in  the  presence  of 
the  God  of  our  fathers. 

Our  -zeal  and  interest  increased  as  we  advanced. 
My  mind,  wearied  with  fruitless  researches,  beheld  a 
vast  and  untried  field  open  before  it,  into  which  it  en- 
tered with  an  ardour  and  irresistible  attraction  that  I 
recognised  later  as  the  expression  of  my  heavenly  Fa- 

2G  • 


302  CONVERSION   OF 

ther's  love,  by  which  He  draws  to  his  dearly  beloved 
Son  the  souls  he  would  save.  This  meditation  on  the 
word  of  God  became  at  length  the  most  urgent  want  of 
my  heart.  It  was  not  enough  that  I  knew  the  truth,  I 
felt  the  need  of  possessing  it  and  living  on  its  substance. 
Although  I  could  not  then  discern  clearly  what  was 
passing  within  me,  nevertheless  I  remember  to  have  had 
moments  of  rapture  at  the  thought  that  I  could  perceive 
in  my  path  visible  marks  of  divine  assistance  and  pro- 
tection. One  day,  when  my  friend  and  I  were  together, 
occupied  with  our  accustomed  researches,  my  brother 
surprised  us  :  he  saw  on  the  table,  alongside  of  the  open 
Bible,  a  Spanish  author,  the  only  work  of  human  origin 
we  perused  with  the  word  of  God.  He  opened  the  book 
and  read  the  title.  It  was  "  Defense  de  la  foi  chreti- 
enne;"  ("a  defence  of  the  Christian  faith,")  by  Profes- 
sor Heydeck.  He  read  only  these  words :  "  Defense  de 
la  foi,"— ("  defence  of  the  faith.")  "  What  are  you  en- 
gaged in  every  day  together  ?"  asked  he,  replacing  the 
book;  udo  you  desire  to  become  Rabbis?"  Then 
changing  the  subject,  he  left  us.  Here  we  saw  the  pro- 
tecting hand  of  God ;  for  if  my  brother  had  read  the 
whole  title,  we  should  have  been  discovered ;  at  least, 
the  suspicion  of  our  families  would  have  rested  on  us. 

On  another  occasion  I  was  in  my  uncle's  library,  and 
ever  eager  to  meet  with  something  relating  to  that  which 
occupied  me  incessantly,  I  ran  my  eye  impatiently  over 


DR.   CAPADOSE.  303 

a  multitude  of  books,  to  find  one  that  would  tell  me 
something  in  regard  to  Christianity.  At  last  I  dis- 
covered a  large  folio,  entitled  "The  Works  of  Justin 
Martyr."  Although  this  'writer  was  at  that  time  en- 
tirely unknown  to  me,  the  title  of  Martyr  excited  a 
hope  that  I  should  find  in  it  something  relating  to 
Christianity.  I  opened  it,  and  the  first  paragraph  on 
which  my  eye  rested  was  the  "Dialogue  with  Trypho 
the  Jew."  I  read  it  hastily,  and  found  there  a  succinct 
exposition  of  the  prophecies  relating  to  the  Messiah, 
which  was  very  useful  to  me.  Here  was  very  evidently 
another  interposition  of  Providence,  and  my  heart  was 
deeply  touched  with  it. 

One  night  I  was  reading  the  prophet  Isaiah :  when 
I  came  to  the  fifty-third  chapter,  the  perusal  of  it  made 
so  vivid  an  impression  upon  me,  and  showed  me  so 
clearly,  and,  as  it  were,  feature  by  feature,  what  I  had 
read  in  the  Gospel  of  the  sufferings  of  Christ,  that  I 
actually  thought  some  other  Bible  had  been  substituted 
in  the  place  of  my  own :  I  could  not  be  persuaded  that 
this  fifty-third  chapter,  which  may  be  justly  styled  a 
Gospel  in  brief,  formed  a  part  of  the  Old  Testament. 
On  reading  this,  it  seemed  impossible  for  a  Jew  to  doubt 
that  Christ  was  the  promised  Messiah. 

Whence  came  so  strong  an  impression  ?  I  had  often 
read  this  same  chapter,  but  this  time  I  read  it  with  the 
light  of  God's  spirit.  From  that  hour  I  fully  recognised 


304  CONVERSION   OF 

in  Christ  the  true  Messiah,  and  our  meditations  on  the 
word  of  God  took  a  new  turn.  This  was,  as  it  were,  the 
beginning,  the  aurora  of  a  glorious  day  to  our  souls : 
the  light  continually  spread  more  of  its  vivifying  rays, 
enlightened  our  minds,  warmed  our  hearts,  and  afforded 
me  even  then  indescribable  consolation.  I  began  to 
solve  the  wherefore  of  many  of  the  enigmas  of  life,  that 
had  occupied  my  mind,  rather  to  weary  and  sadden, 
than  to  tranquillize  and  instruct  me.  Everything  around 
me  appeared  to  possess  new  life ;  the  end  and  interest 
of  my  existence  were  entirely  changed.  Happy  days, 
blessed  by  a  sense  of  the  Master's  presence !  I  shall 
never  forget  them !  It  seldom  happens,  when  I  review 
the  journey  of  the  two  disciples  to  Emmaus,  that  the 
recollections  of  those  days  when  my  friend  and  I  met 
and  walk§4  together,  do  not  come  up  afresh  into  my 
memory.  Like  them  we  can  say,  "  Did  not  our  heart 
burn  within  us  while  he  talked  to  us  by  the  way,  and 
while  he  opened  to  us  the  Scriptures  ?" 

I  have  remarked  above,  that,  by  the  guidance  of 
God,  we  had  abstained  from  communicating  to  any  per- 
fcon  what  was  passing  in  our  hearts ;  and  that,  limiting 
ourselves  to  reading  and  comparing  the  word  of  God, 
we  neglected  every  other  book,  excepting  the  work  of 
Heydeck,  which  we  consulted  regularly.  This  author 
had  been  a  rabbi  in  Germany;  but  having  embraced 
Catholicism,  he  was  elected  professor  of  the  oriental 


DE.    CAPADOSE.  305 

languages  at  Madrid,  where  I  believe  he  still  resides. 
The  work  we  had  before  us,  written  in  the  form  of  letters, 
possessed  much  of  the  spirit  and  knowledge  of  the  Scrip- 
tures, and  contained  a  defence  of  Christianity  against 
rationalism.  The  perusal  of  this  was  doubly  useful  to 
us,  since  we  had  occasion  to  remark  how  powerful  the 
logic  and  how  forcible  the  proofs  were,  when  contending 
against  the  opinions  of  a  Voltaire  and  a  Rousseau ;  and 
how  weak  they  were  when  defending  Catholicism  against 
the  principles  of  the  Reformation. 

Whenever  I  had  a  leisure  moment  in  the  morning  I 
always  absented  myself  to  read  the  word  of  God ;  for  I 
did  not  dare  to  do  so  in  my  uncle's  presence.  One  day 
I  had  been  more  particularly  engaged  with  this  passage 
of  the  eighth  chapter  of  Isaiah :  "  Behold  a  virgin  shall 
conceive  and  bear  a  son,  and  shall  call  his  name  Imma- 
nuel."  I  descended  from  the  library,  and  found  a  Jew- 
ish physician,  a  friend  of  my  uncle,  waiting  in  the  ante- 
chamber :  he  was  turning  over  the  leaves  of  a  new  edition 
of  the  Bible.  "Here,"  said  he,  "is  a  fatal  passage, 
that  we  can  hardly  wrest  from  the  Christians."  It  was 
the  very  passage  of  Isaiah  on  which  I  had  been  medita- 
ting. My  mind  was  vividly  touched,  and  I  recognised 
again  the  hand  of  God. 

"  Ah  !  why,"  replied  I,  "  should  we  not  acknowledge 
"le  truth?" 

In  the  mean  while  my  uncle  entered.    It  was  the  din- 

26* 


306  CONVERSION   OF 

ner  hour.  "What  question  are  you  debating?"  asked 
he.  The  physician  informed  him ;  and  knowing  how 
versed  my  uncle  was  in  the  rabbinical  writings,  he  inquired 
what  our  rabbins  said  of  this  passage.  "  Alas  !  a  heap 
of  nonsense,"  replied  my  uncle,  rising  up.  We  entered 
an  adjoining  room  where  dinner  was  served.  My  heart 
beat  strong,  and  I  inwardly  blessed  the  Lord  for  permit- 
ting me  to  hear  even  these  words,  much  as  they  indicated 
his  want  of  reverence  for  the  Divine  oracles,  from  the 
mouth  of  a  man  whose  rabbinical  science  gave  him 
authority  among  the  Jews. 

All  these  circumstances,  guided  by  the  wisdom  and 
goodness  of  God,  concurred  to  convince  me  more  and 
more  that  the  truth  was  in  Christianity  alone.  But  what, 
at  the  outset,  was  only  the  desire  of  my  understanding, 
had  become  that  of  my  heart.  Knowledge  no  longer 
satisfied  me ;  I  felt  the  need  of  love.  Then  it  was  that 
the  rays  of  the  Sun  of  Righteousness,  which  rises  upon 
us  gradually,  conveyed  to  me,  with  the  light  that  illu- 
mined me,  that  vivifying  and  celestial  warmth  which 
gives  us  the  life  of  God.  I  acknowledged  that  it  was 
through  love  the  Saviour  came  to  seek  me :  I  now  began 
to  feel  the  weight  of  my  sins ;  or,  to  use  a  better  expres- 
sion, my  total  misery.  But  this  sentiment  was  absorbed 
in  that  of  divine  love.  I  had  found  Christ  my  life,  the 
central  point  of  all  my  affections  and  all  my  thoughts, 
the  only  object  capable  of  filling  the  immense  void  in  my 


DR.    CAPADOSE.  307 

heart ;  the  key  of  every  mystery ;  the  principle  of  all 
true  philosophy,  of  every  truth — "the  Truth"  itself. 

By  degrees,  as  the  Spirit  of  God  confirmed  my  faith, 
I  felt  more  unhappy  in  the  position  in  which  I  found 
myself,  losing  in  my  uncle's  society  so  many  precious 
hours  and  evenings  that  I  could  have  desired  to  employ 
in  further  researches  into  the  only  subject  that  interested 
me  on  earth. 

Every  day  I  felt  more  and  more  deeply  the  necessity 
of  coming  to  an  open  declaration  of  my  sentiments ;  but 
my  uncle,  that  uncle  who  had  loaded  me  with  kindness, 
who  cherished  me  as  a  son,  who  saw  in  me  the  support 
of  his  old  age — how  could  I  resolve  to  avow  to  him  what, 
considering  his  age  and  choleric  temperament,  could  not 
fail  to  make  an  impression  and  occasion  a  shock,  the 
consequences  of  which  were  incalculable  ?  I  can  attest 
to  the  glory  of  God,  that  the  certainty  there  was,  in  case 
I  made  the  avowal,  of  losing  a  considerable  inheritance 
that  awaited  me,  a  certainty  which  the  event  has  con- 
firmed, formed  no  part  of  the  grounds  of  my  hesitation. 
All  my  fears  were,  lest  I  should  compromise  a  life  so 
dear  to  me ;  and  the  idea  that,  by  a  word,  I  might  give 
a  fatal  blow  to  this  worthy  old  gentleman,  deprived  me 
of  the  strength  and  courage  requisite  to  unfold  my  sen- 
timents. Assuredly,  with  more  faith  I  should  have 
overcome  every  obstacle ;  but  in  the  state  in  which  I 
then  was,  I  could  only  sigh  and  groan  in  secret.  During 


308  CONVERSION    OF 

these  seasons  of  inward  struggle  and  conflict,  my  sighs 
rose  continually  to  the  God  who  had  called  me ;  I  con- 
jured him  to  come  to  my  aid  and  to  open  the  way 
before  me. 

Acknowledge  how  attentive  the  God  of  compassion 
was  to  my  cry,  and  how  he  listened  to  the  voice  of  my 
supplication.  My  uncle  was  in  the  habit  of  reading  the 
public  journals  aloud  after  dinner.  One  day,  when  I 
was  seated  at  my  customary  place  opposite  to  him,  in  a 
state  of  indescribable  depression,  I  heard  him  reading 
a  notice  from  a  Hamburg  journal,  which  ran  thus :  "  We 
have  just  been  witnesses  of  an  interesting  fact :  a  rabbi, 
after  having  publicly  announced  in  the  synagogue,  that 
an  attentive  examination  of  the  prophecies  had  given 
him  a  clear  conviction  that  the  true  Messiah  had  come, 
has  publicly  confessed  the  Christian  faith  in  our  city,  and 
been  received  as  a  minister  of  the  Gospel  of  Christ." 
Whereupon  my  uncle  added  these  words,  which  my  posi- 
tion rendered  so  remarkable :  "  You  know  my  way  of 
thinking :  if  this  man  has  acted  thus  from  any  interested 
motive  whatever,  he  deserves  contempt ;  if  it  is  through 
conviction,  he  has  a  claim  to  respect." 

Christians !  who  happily  compassionate  the  lively 
emotions  of  the  heart  of  a  fellow-being,  I  will  not 
attempt  to  describe  to  you  all  that  passed  in  mine  at  this 
solemn  moment !  In  a  transport  of  joy,  I  replied,  "  Yes, 
uncle,  God  has  given  you  these  sentiments :  know  th 


DR.    CAPADOSB.  309 

he  whom  you  love  with  paternal  tenderness,  and  whom 
you  call  by  the  name  of  son,  is  in  the  same  position  as 
this  rabbi !" 

I  pronounced  these  words  with  such  a  tone  of  voice, 
and  with  so  much  agitation,  that  my  poor  uncle,  speech- 
less and  alarmed,  thought  me  deranged ;  and  going  out 
for  a  moment,  as  if  to  allow  me  time  to  return  to  myself, 
he  re-entered  and  spoke  of  other  matters.  But  my  mind 
was  too  much  absorbed  and  excited  to  listen  to  what  he 
said :  I  was  occupied  with  the  God  of  my  deliverance ; 
for,  on  this  occasion,  I  had  felt  him  to  be  near.  It  was 
the  presence  of  the  Adonai  (God)  of  my  fathers  that 
sustained  me,  and  who  from  that  day  afforded  my  soul  a 
consolation  it  had  never  experienced,  a  joy  and  energy 
it  had  never  known. 

Nevertheless,  I  saw  clearly  that  my  uncle,  although 
troubled  by  this  scene,  had  not  attributed  to  my  words 
the  importance  they  merited.  I  resolved,  then,  in  God's 
strength,  to  reiterate  my  declaration  on  the  morrow. 
We  were  alone  at  the  table,  according  to  custom ;  my 
uncle  appeared  somewhat  preoccupied ;  he  was,  notwith- 
standing, on  very  good  terms  with  me.  After  dinner  I 
began,  but  this  time  with  calmness  and  decision,  by  say- 
ing, I  remarked,  with  regret,  that  my  avowal  of  the  pre- 
ceding evening  had  not  been  clearly  understood,  which 
laid  me  under  the  obligation  to  repeat  it,  as  if  in  God's 


310  CONVERSION  OF 

presence,  with  the  hope  that  he  himself  would  one  day- 
acknowledge  the  truth. 

There  was  no  longer  any  possibility  of  illusion,  and 
a  most  trying  scene  followed.  He  beat  his  breast — 
cursed  his  existence,  and  cried  out,  in  the  bitterness  of 
his  soul,  that  I  was  bringing  down  his  gray  hairs  with 
sorrow  to  the  grave.  These  reproaches  pierced  my  heart ; 
but  the  Lord  strengthened,  consoled,  and  gave  me  grace 
to  show  this  dear,  venerable  old  gentleman,  marks  of 
love  and  tenderness,  which  calmed  him  a  little.  The 
next  day  he  communicated  all  to  my  parents,  and  it  ap- 
peared that  there  was  an  understanding  between  them  to 
treat  me  with  tenderness.  Who  could  tell,  but  that,  by 
carefully  avoiding  all  conversation  upon  this  topic,  these 
ideas  might  pass  away  ?  Nevertheless,  my  family  were 
not  slow  to  perceive  that  this  was  impossible ;  I  began 
even  to  embolden  myself,  sometimes  preaching  the 
Gospel  to  them ;  and  whenever  occasion  offered,  I  no 
longer  dissembled  my  sentiments. 

My  intimate  friend,  who  had  lost  his  father  some 
months  previous,  enjoying  more  liberty,  was  at  this  time 
a  great  source  of  consolation  to  me.  At  last,  my  uncle, 
seeing  that  mildness  did  not  succeed  in  effacing  my  reli- 
gious convictions,  and  fearing  still  more  the  open  mani- 
festation of  my  faith,  had  recourse  to  other  means,  which 
led,  I  owever,  to  results  opposite  to  his  expectation. 


DR.   CAPADOSE.  311 

There  was  not  a  sarcasm,  humiliation,  contempt,  or 
severity  even,  that  I  had  not  to  endure  from  him. 

I  do  not  complain  of  these  trials ;  on  the  contrary, 
I  ought  to  consider  this  treatment,  severe  and  painful  to 
the  flesh,  in  the  light  of  real  blessings  from  God,  since 
it  confirmed  my  faith,  and  was  to  me  a  new  testimony 
of  the  truth  of  the  Gospel,  the  open  and  full  confession 
of  which  has  ever  been  attended  with  every  kind  of  per- 
secution. 

My  family,  also,  were  not  in  the  least  appeased,  see- 
ing me  persevere  in  my  resolution  in  spite  of  all  that  had 
been  attempted  to  divert  me  from  it,  and  the  severity 
practised  towards  me  went  on  increasing.  This  was  the 
period  of  severest  trial  to  my  soul.  Earely  did  I  meet 
with  one  of  my  relations,  whether  at  my  uncle's  house, 
or  in  that  of  my  parents,  without  enduring  painful  re- 
proaches from  them. 

It  may  be  conceived  that  this  state  of  things  could 
not  last,  and  but  strengthened  my  ardent  desire  to  con- 
fess my  Saviour.  We  were  already  the  subject  of  public 
conversation.  Very  many  of  our  habits  were  altered ; 
we  no  longer  frequented  the  same  society,  and  were  very 
seldom  seen  participating  in  the  pleasures  of  our  friends. 
The  cause  was  at  length  suspected,  and  called  forth  ex- 
pressions of  grief  and  regret  on  the  part  of  our  nation. 
They  set  some  value  upon  us :  we  were  favourably 
known,  and  to  national  pride  was  added  the  flattery  of 


312  CONVERSION   OF 

the  idea  that  I  possessed,  as  a  religious  companion,  such 
a  man  as  my  friend,  who,  though  young,  had  superior 
talents,  and  was  versed  in  many  sciences  ;  above  all,  was 
a  poet,  whose  effusions,  at  that  time  published,  had  been 
received  with  universal  applause. 

I  will  not  pass  over  in  silence  an  interesting  inter- 
view that  we  had  about  this  time  with  a  respectable 
Rabbi,  a  man  of  fasting  and  prayer,  emaciated  by  hard 
diet,  and  esteemed  for  piety  by  the  whole  Jewish  nation. 
He  desired  an  interview,  and  gave  us  calmly  some  written 
objections.  It  was  not  difficult  to  refute  them.  Per- 
ceiving that  his  arguments  did  not  persuade  us,  he 
attempted  an  appeal  to  our  feelings.  "  Gentlemen," 
said  he,  rising  up  with  solemnity,  "  in  a  few  days  all  of 
our  religion,  in  every  quarter  of  the  globe,  will  put  on 
sackcloth  and  ashes,  to  celebrate  the  great  day  of  propi- 
tiation. Then  every  Israelite,  who  humbleth  himself 
before  our  God,  sincerely  confessing  his  sins,  is  sure  to 
obtain  grace.  I  conjure  you,  gentlemen,  to  reflect 
seriously  upon  it ;  and  if,  as  Israelites,  you  humble  your- 
selves with  remorse  for  the  design  you  have  dared  to 
form,  you  will  be  pardoned  by  our  God."  We  were 
touched,  vividly  touched,  by  his  zeal ;  but  we  reminded 
him,  that,  at  any  rate,  the  blood  of  the  Messiah  alone 
could  wash  us  from  all  sin. 

As  he  was  on  the  point  of  departing,  he  added  these 
remarkable  words :  "  Well,  gentlemen,  I  have  acted  in 


DR.   CAPADOSE.  313 

accordance  with  the  command  of  duty ;  now  that  we  are 
about  to  separate,  apparently  never  to  meet  again,  I 
cannot  conceal  from  you  that  I  thank  God  for  permit- 
ting me  to  find,  even  in  our  day,  persons  who  believe  the 
Bible."  We  then  separated,  not  without  emotion  on 
\  both  sides". 

At  length  the  moment  of  final  decision  had  arrived ; 
I  could  defer  no  longer.  My  friend,  whose  position  was 
very  different  from  mine,  and  who  had  met  with  hardly 
any  opposition,  his  father  dying  before  our  secret  trans- 
pired, desired  to  wait  some  time  longer ;  but  my  decision 
was  taken ;  he  joined  me,  and  I  acquainted  my  family 
with  my  resolution. 

They  wished  that  I  would  postpone  it,  or  at  least 
that  I  would  go  into  Germany,  or  elsewhere.  Perhaps 
I  might  have  yielded  to  this  wish,  but  the  fear  of  any 
appearance  of  shame  in  the  step  I  was  about  to  take, 
led  me  to  reject  every  proposition  of  the  kind ;  only  we 
promised  not  to  join  any  church  in  the  city  where  our 
families  resided,  and,  as  it  were,  in  the  face  of  our  uncle, 
who  was  chief  of  a  commission  charged  by  the  king  to 
take  care  of  the  interests  of  the  Jews  of  Holland. 

Our  choice  naturally  fell  on  the  city  of  Leyden, 
which  had  such  sweet  recollections  in  our  hearts,  and 
where  that  dear  and  excellent  professor  dwelt,  with  his 
worthy  spouse,  whose  writings  and  conversation  had 
exercised  so  marked  an  influence  over  our  minds.  We 

4 

27 


314  CONVERSION   OF 

set  out  for  Leyden  in  September — my  friend,  his  inter- 
esting wife,  who  partook  our  convictions  at  heart,  and 
myself.  We  were  received  with  open  arms,  and  an  affec- 
tion truly  parental,  by  these  worthy  friends,  who  had 
taken  so  much  interest  in  our  conflicts.  Who  more 
deserving  than  they  to  participate  in  the  celestial  joy 
that  flooded  our  hearts  ? 

The  20th  of  October,  1822,  was  the  day  so  ardently 
longed  for,  when  we  were  solemnly  received  as  members 
of  the  Christian  church ;  there,  on  our  knees,  before  the 
God  of  our  fathers,  the  true  God,  the  Father,  Son,  and 
Holy  Spirit,  we  had  the  ineffable  happiness,  we,  un- 
worthy, miserable  sinners,  to  confess,  in  the  midst  of  the 
Christian  church,  the  blessed  name  of  that  great  God 
and  Saviour  who  had  sought  us  when  lost.  Glory  be  to 
his  holy  name ! 

The  text  selected  by  the  pastor,  as  the  subject  of  his 
discourse,  was  Romans,  xi.  5  :  "  Even  so  then  at  this  pre- 
sent time  also  there  is  a  remnant  according  to  the  elec- 
tion of  grace."  Election  of  grace  I  This  is  the  conclu- 
sion of  what  you  have  just  read  ;  it  is  an  abridgment  of 
the  history  of  my  conversion;  it  is  that  of  all  other 
gratuitous  grace ;  grace  that  conducts,  grace  that  illu- 
mines, grace  that  enables  one  to  suffer  for  the  name  of 
the  Lord,  grace  that  consoles,  grace  that  draws  to  Christ, 
grace  that  gives  faith,  grace  that  justifies,  grace  that 
regenerates,  that  sanctifies ;  finally,  grace  for  grace,  and 


DR.    CAPADOSE.  315 

to  the  glory  of  God,  whose  free  and  gratuitous  election, 
made  before  the  foundation  of  the  world,  is  the  only 
source  and  principle  of  all  grace,  of  all  felicity. 

The  day  previous  to  our  public  entrance  into  the 
Christian  Church,  we  took  leave  of  the  synagogue  by 
letter.  I  addressed  to  the  magistrates  of  the  Portu- 
guese Jewish  nation  a  letter,  in  which,  while  authorizing 
them  to  consider  me  as  no  longer  a  meinber  of  the  syna- 
gogue, I  protested  that  I  remained  an  Israelite,  but  an 
Israelite  who  had  found  his  Messiah,  and  who  ceased 
not  to  offer  the  sincerest  wishes  that  his  brethren  accord- 
ing to  the  flesh  might  speedily  return  to  the  Lord  their 
Grod,  and  to  David  their  king. 

A  few  days  after  my  public  renunciation  of  Judaism, 
I  received  a  letter  from  my  uncle,  in  which  he  announced 
to  me,  that,  after  what  had  passed  and  some  new  arrange- 
ments made  in  his  household,  /  could  not,  on  my  return 
to  Amsterdam,  dwell  under  his  roof ;  that  he  did  not 
forbid  my  visiting  him,  but  this  was  only  under  the  ex- 
press condition  that  I  should  never  speak  to  him  of  my 
sentiments.  On  my  return  to  Amsterdam  I  hired  a 
small  apartment  on  a  third  floor,  where,  alone  with  my 
God,  I  experienced  a  heavenly  joy  and  peace  that  passed 
all  understanding. 

My  dear  brother,  with  whom  I  often  conversed  on  the 
subject  nearest  my  heart,  and  who  weighed  the  considera- 
tions I  urged  with  great  seriousness,  at  length  fell  sick, 


316  CONVERSION   OF 

and  died  suddenly,  crying  to  me  in  a  strong  voice,  and 
with  great  earnestness,  "  Call,  call  my  mother ;  call  my 
sister ;  I  am  dying — but  I  believe  in  (rod  the  Father,  the 
Son7  and  the  Holy  Spirit.  I  believe  in  Jesus  Christ,  my 
Saviour.  He  is  Master — King  of  Icings.  All  must  come 
to  Mm.  Europe,  Asia,  Africa,  and  America  belong  to 
him.  He  must  reign  over  the  whole  earth.  Announce 
in  the  synagogue  that  I  die  in  his  name." 

If,  by  Divine  direction,  these  lines  should  fall  into 
the  hands  of  any  of  the  children  of  Abraham,  but  who 
have  not  Abraham's  faith — of  those  Israelites,  my 
dearly  beloved  brethren  according  to  the  flesh,  who  are 
now  poor,  but  with  the  riches  of  the  Divine  word  in 
their  hands ;  miserable,  but  having  the  blood  of  the 
prophets  in  their  veins  ;  despised  and  wandering  over 
the  whole  earth,  but  with  the  promise  of  eternal  glory, 
if  they  should  be  converted;  may  these  lines  remind 
them  that  this  word,  these  promises,  this  blood  of  the 
prophets,  urge  them  to  examine  attentively  what  these 
prophets  have  spoken,  and  by  whom  their  promises  must 
have  their  accomplishment  for  them  of  whom  this  word 
is  full. 

Yes,  may  they  speedily,  by  God's  grace,  acknowledge 
that  this  precious  Bible,  which  they  preserve,  and  upon 
which  their  faith  as  well  as  our  own  is  founded,  contains 
prophetically  the  entire  history  of  the  Messiah;  his 
origin,  his  nature,  his  birth,  his  life,  his  death,  his  resur- 


DK.    CAPADOSB.  317 

rection  and  ascension  to  the  right  hand  of  Grod  his 
heavenly  Father;  his  spiritual  reign;  his  return  to 
glory;  finally  his  reign  as  KING  OF  ISRAEL,  PRIEST, 
AND  PROPHET. 

Behold  what  I  have  been  taught  by  my  researches 
in  the  word  of  God.  May  these  lines  excite  in  them 
also  the  desire  to  seek  after  the  truth !  They  will  see 
that  the  Messiah  promised  to  our  fathers,  must  have  been 
the  only  begotten  Son  of  God,  God  eternal,  one  with  the 
Father  and  Holy  Spirit,  according  to  the  Scriptures ; 
for  He  is  called  "God"  and  the  "Son  of  God,"  by 
David:  Ps.  xlv.  6;  Ps.  ex.  1;  by  Isaiah,  "Wonderful 
Counsellor,  the  Mighty  God,  the  Everlasting  Father,  the 
Prince  of  Peace:"  Isaiah  ix.  6;  by  Jeremiah,  "The 
Lord  our  Righteousness :"  Jer.  xxiii.  6 ;  by  Malachi, 
"  the  Lord  :"  Mai.  iii.  1 ;  that  this  Messiah  was  to  take 
our  nature,  and  be  born  of  a  virgin,  according  to  the 
Scriptures ;  for  He  is  called  the  Seed  of  the  Woman : 
Gen.  iii.  15;  "the  child  of  a  virgin:"  Isaiah  vii.  14; 
that  this  Messiah  was  to  be  the  descendant  of  Abraham, 
Isaac,  and  Jacob,  according  to  the  Scriptures,  for  He  is 
called  "the  Seed  of  Abraham  :"  Gen.  xxii.  18  ;  that  He 
was  to  be  of  the  tribe  of  Judah  and  of  the  house  of 
David,  according  to  the  Scriptures ;  for  He  is  called  "  a 
Rod  from  the  stem  of  Jesse:"  Isaiah,  xi.  1;  "out  of 
David  a  righteous  Branch :"  Jer.  xxiii.  5 ;  that  He  was 
to  be  born  in  "Bethlehem:"  Mic.  v.  2;  that  at  that 
27* 


318  CONVERSION   OF 

time  "the  sceptre  should  be  taken  from  Judah:"' Gen. 
xlix.  10;  that  the  Messiah  should  have  Elias  for  his 
precursor,  "  preaching  in  the  wilderness  and  preparing 
the  way,"  according  to  the   Scriptures:  Isaiah,  xl.  3, 
Mai.  iii.  1 ;    that  the  Messiah   should  accompany  his 
preaching  with  many  miracles :  Isaiah,  xxxv.  5,  6  ;  that 
He  should  "  enter  Jerusalem  upon  an  ass  :"  Zech.  ix.  9  ; 
that  He  should  appear  poor  and  humble,  "having  no 
form  nor  comeliness,  the  despised  and  rejected  of  men :" 
Isaiah,  liii.  2,  3 ;  that  one  of  His  disciples  should  "  betray 
Him:"  Ps.  xli.  9;  that  He  should  be  sold  for  "thirty 
pieces  of  silver:"   Zech.  xi.  12;   that   He  should   be 
"  smitten  with  rods,  reviled,  spit  upon :"  Isaiah,  1.  6 ; 
that  He  should  be  "numbered  with  the  transgressors:" 
Isaiah,  liii.  12 ;  "  smitten,  and  afflicted  of  God :"  Isaiah, 
liii.  4 ;  but  that  these  sufferings  should  be  upon  Him 
"  for  our  transgressions :"  Isaiah,  liii.  5 ;  that  He  should 
be  "crucified :"  Deut.  xxi.  23 ;  that  they  should  "  pierce 
his  hands  and  his  feet:"  Ps.  xxii.  16;  that  He  should 
be  "reviled,  even  on  the  cross,"  and  made  to  drink  "gall 
and  vinegar:"  Ps.  xxii.  7,  Ixix.  21;  that  they  should 
"  divide  his  garments  among  them,  and  for  his  vesture 
cast  lots:"  Ps.  xxii.   18;   that  "not  a  bone  of  Him 
should  be  broken :"  Exod.  xii.  46,  xxxiv.  20 ;  that  his 
death  should  be  violent:  Isaiah,  liii.  8;  Dan.  ix.  26; 
that  He  should  "  make  his  grave  with  the  wicked,  and 
be  with  the  rich  in  his  death  :"  Isaiah,  liii.  9;  that  He 


DR.    CAPADOSE.  319 

should  "not  see  corruption:"  Ps.  xvi.  10;  but  that  on 
"the  third  day"  He  should  "rise  again:"  Isaiah,  liii. 
10 ;  Jonah,  i.  17  ;  that  He  should  "  ascend  into  heaven, 
and  sit  down  at  the  right  hand  of  the  Father:"  Ps. 
Ixviii.  18 ;  and  that  thence  He  should  "  send  his  Holy 
Spirit:"  Joel,  ii.  28. 

When  you  have  thus  united  all  these  features  of  the 
promised  Messiah,  which  the  Almighty  has  traced  so 
clearly,  so  distinctly,  to  the  very  minutest  details,  that 
Israel  should  not  be  deceived  by  any  false  Messiah; 
when  you  have  placed  before  you,  as  it  were,  face  to 
face,  the  image  of  Him  upon  whom  your  salvation  rests, 
open,  0  my  dear  brethren  in  the  flesh,  open  the  New 
Testament,  praying  God  to  enable  you  to  examine  its 
contents  with  a  sincere  desire  to  know  the  truth,  and 
the  glorious  light  of  the  God  of  truth  will  lead  you  to 
acknowledge,  with  adoration,  that  all  these  characterizing 
features  of  the  true  Messiah  are  to  be  found,  with  the 
most  scrupulous  exactness,  in  the  person,  the  life,  and 
death  of  Jesus  Christ,  that  Saviour  blessed  for  evermore, 
who  will  soon  come  in  glory  with  his  holy  angels.  Then 
Jerusalem  shall  be  to  Him  a  name  of  rejoicing,  of  praise 
and  glory  among  all  the  nations  of  the  earth,  who  shall 
hear  the  good  that  He  will  do  to  Israel ;  for,  "  I  will 
cause  the  captivity  of  Judah,  and  the  captivity  of  Israel, 
to  return,"  saith  the  Lord,  "and  I  will  build  them  as 
at  the  first.  And  I  will  cleanse  them  from  all  their 


320        CONVERSION  OF  DR.  CAPADOSE. 

iniquity,  whereby  they  have  sinned  against  me ;  and  I 
will  pardon  all  their  iniquities  whereby  they  have  sinned, 
and  whereby  they  have  transgressed  against  me :"  Jer. 
xxxiii.  7,  8. 

"And  I  saw  thrones,  and  they  sat  upon  them,  and 
judgment  was  given  them :  and  I  saw  the  souls  of  them 
that  were  beheaded  for;  the  witness  of  Jesus,  and  for  the 
word  of  God,  and  which  had  not  worshipped  the  beast, 
neither  his  image,  neither  had  received  his  mark  upon 
their  foreheads  or  in  their  hands ;  and  they  lived  and 
reigned  with  Christ  a  thousand  years.  But  the  rest  of 
the  dead  lived  not  again  until  the  thousand  years  were 
finished.  This  is  the  first  resurrection.  Blessed  and 
holy  is  he  that  hath  part  in  the  first  resurrection :  on 
such  the  second  death  hath  no  power ;  but  they  shall  be 
priests  of  God  and  of  Christ,  and  shall  reign  with  him 
a  thousand  years :"  Apocal.  xx.  4-6. 

"  And  the  Spirit  and  the  Bride  say,  Come.  And  let 
him  that  heareth  say,  Come.  And  let  him  that  is  athirst 
come.  And  whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the  water  of 
life  freely  :"  Apocalypse,  xxii.  17.  Amen ! 


THE  END. 


HIGGINS  &  PERKINPINE, 
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"The  work  is  on  a  plan  somewhat  original,  and  meets  a  want  long  felt 
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BY 
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THE  MINSTREL  OF  ZION, 

A  BOOK  OF  RELIGIOUS  SONGS, 
Accompanied  with  appropriate  Music,  chiefly  original, 

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I9NOV04JA 

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